


Lemon Wavelength

by ParadiseAvenger



Series: Lemon Collections [8]
Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Food Kink, Lemons, Light Bondage, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2017-12-03 15:35:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadiseAvenger/pseuds/ParadiseAvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anything you want or imagine... any fantasy you have... any desire that wakes you in the night, panting and sweaty... can be found on the Wavelength of Lemons, but only for a price. A collection of one-shot citrus for SOUL and MAKA. Canon, fluff, AU. Requests welcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Maka's Nightmares

Mild spoilers for chapter seventy-five of the manga when Soul and Maka are in the Sloth chapter inside the Book of Eibon, fighting Giriko.

Summary: After what Giriko nearly did to Maka, she hasn’t been able to match soul wavelengths with Soul. Her partner has to find out why or else risk losing her forever.

X X X

The bed that had once been such a comfort to Maka Albarn felt strange beneath her back and her favorite pajamas felt like constricting chains. She couldn’t breathe inside her clothing and the bed was going to swallow her up like the maw of a hungry monster. It was like a strange sort of twisted nightmare, only… it wasn’t a nightmare. 

It was reality.

Ever since Spartoi had retrieved Death the Kid from the Book of Eibon, Maka hadn’t been able to sleep in her own bed. She had actually spent most of her nights on the couch in the living room, being certain to get up before Soul so he wouldn’t know how tormented she was by what had happened… what had nearly happened. 

The nightmares chewed at Maka’s soul.

The world around her was lazy white—white walls, white floor, a veritable abyss of endless whiteness. The empty white space was filled with beds and chairs of all shapes and sizes. At first, Maka was alone in the Sloth Chapter, standing there. Her body was tired and felt so heavy. Her own soul seemed to weigh her down. All she wanted to do was lay down on one of the plush beds and sleep for eternity, resting her exhausted body and mind and soul. She took a step towards one of the beds, drawn to it like a moth to the flame. That was when there was a subtle shift in the whiteness to her left and she closed her eyes, willing it away. But it didn’t go away. 

The nightmare was the same every time.

Giriko was standing behind her, his arms going around her small body. He reeked of oil and grease, his body burning hot and purring like a motor, and his hot stinking breath blew against the shell of her ear. In reality, when it had happened, he had been yelling threats to kill her, but in her nightmare, he was deathly silent. Without a sound, he overpowered her small weaponless body. He threw her down on one of the beds and pinned her arms above her head. He grinned, hot breath on her throat, and his knee pressed between her thighs. The Spartoi uniform’s short skirt offered no resistance or protection. He pressed against her, crushing her sex. She whimpered in pain and fear.

Where was Soul? Why wasn’t he here with her?

Giriko hovered over Maka, the stink of his body pressing into her lungs like polluting smoke. Her hands were pinned, her body strewn helplessly on the bed, and she was defenseless. She could do nothing to stop him as he ripped open the front of her jacket and white blouse. The chainsaws inside his body hummed as he cut through the underwire of her bra and broke into her skin. He licked the blood off of her skin, his tongue hideously wet. Then, he pushed aside the crotch of her panties and pushed his fingers into her virginal tightness. She cried out, her sex throbbing. She was afraid, she was alone, and she wasn’t wet. He hurt her. He hurt her so badly. And he wasn’t even inside her yet.

“Please, don’t,” she begged him.

Still silent, Giriko cut through her skirt and panties and ran his tongue over her naked body from knee to shoulder. Then, he licked her face and pushed his tongue into her mouth. She tried to turn her face away, but he was too strong. His fingers thrust into her dry sex painfully, but he put his thumb on her clitoris and she couldn’t help but respond. A small shiver went through her body and heat settled between her thighs. He grinned at her and licked the side of her throat. Then, she closed her eyes and tried to escape the nightmare. He lowered his zipper and the greasy head of his dick bumped against her entrance, beginning to push into her vulnerable body.

“This is my nightmare,” she whispered. “Please, I want to wake up now.”

But her words had no effect. She remained trapped within the nightmare realm, pinned beneath Giriko as he pushed into her helpless body. If only someone would save her, help her, anything! Where was her partner? Where was Soul? She needed him—without him, she was useless. Giriko’s fingers bruised into her hips and slammed into her to the hilt. She screamed out and she could feel the blood running down her thighs as her virgin body was violated. He bit her throat, leaving a hickey the size of a golf ball on her pale flesh. He plowed into Maka as hard as he could, pressing against her womb, and bouncing her tiny breasts with the animal force of his thrusts. 

She sobbed. “Help me…”

But no one did. Giriko fucked her. He fucked her hard. Her body felt like it was going to split at the seams, the small amount of pleasure he was giving her creating juices to mingle with her blood. Tears ran down her cheeks, dripping into the sheets of the bed. Her hands rolled into fists and a moan of pain escaped her mouth. Giriko continued, as silent as the grave even as she felt his pace quicken and his burning seed spill inside her. Then, the pure white nightmare world began to evaporate. Giriko was gone as if he had never even been there, but Maka’s body was still naked and violated. She hugged herself within the dream and waited to wake up. 

Now was the time she always woke up.

“You looked like you enjoyed that.”

Maka’s head snapped up, stricken. Soul was standing in front of her, his hands in his pockets, his blood-colored eyes hard and cold. He stared at her for a long time and she did what she could to cover her nudity. This nightmare… what was it going to do to her now?

“Did you enjoy being fucked, Maka?” Soul asked her meanly.

She shook her head, tears dripping down her face.

“You looked like you did.” He approached her and pushed her back down on the bed.

Maka wrapped her arms around him, sobbing and holding his body close to guard her nudity. Even when he was like this, even though it was a nightmare, he was still Soul. She knew that he would never hurt her. When Giriko had attacked her in reality, Soul had been there and he had saved her. He had protected her. 

“Soul,” she sobbed.

His fingers slipped between her legs, probing her folds. “You’re all sloppy down here. You liked it.”

“No,” she whimpered. “I didn’t. Please…”

Soul pushed a finger inside her and she yelped. “How about it, Maka?” he growled. “You spread your legs for him. How about spreading them for me, now?” 

Her green eyes widened, tears burning in her eyes and throat. “No! Please—!”

He pried her legs apart and shoved himself into her, tearing her apart, tearing into her soul. He tore both of them apart until they were nothing but pieces of paper blown away on the cold wind blowing through her nightmare. Maka screamed, her voice bouncing off the walls. She woke with a start, the scream still echoing against the walls of the apartment she shared with Soul. She was sleeping on the couch, tangled in the blankets, and Soul’s concerned face were inches from her own.

“Maka, are you—?”

She screamed wildly and lashed out, the vestiges of her nightmare still clinging to her body and mind. Without even realizing what she was doing, she got first her fist into Soul’s face and then her foot into his gut. She hurled him backwards with the strength she had from wielding his scythe form day in and day out. Soul’s body slammed into the wall with a crack and the painting that was hung on it crashed down on his head. Glass scattered all over the floor.

“Maka, what the—?” 

For a moment, she just stared at him with her olive-green eyes uncomprehending. Then, a sort of light came on in the depths of her eyes. Tears ran down her face and she pressed her fingers to her mouth, a ragged sob tearing from her throat. “Oh Soul… I… I’m so sorry…”

He rubbed the back of his head and his fingers came away bloody. “Shit,” he muttered. “That must have been some dream.”

Maka shuddered. “Y-yeah…”

Soul got to his feet, flipped on the lamp, and carefully picked his way through the glass scattered on the floor. “Why are you sleeping on the couch?” he asked her softly as he fetched the dustpan and broom from the closet. Normally, he would have insisted that Maka clean up her own mess, but her eyes were so tragic and frightened that he didn’t. “Maka?”

“I was… reading,” she lied, “and… just fell asleep here.”

Soul eyed the blankets and pillows she had brought out from her room and settled on the couch. “Really?”

She bit her lip nervously. “Yeah…”

Soul knew she was lying, but he didn’t push it. They were so close, their souls bonded, that he could feel her emotions and he sensed that she didn’t want to talk about what had just occurred between them. She didn’t want to tell him why she had shoved him away from her. She didn’t want him to know why she had been screaming in her sleep. She didn’t want him to know why she was sleeping on the couch and had been for many nights now.

So, Soul let it go. He cleaned up the broken picture and the glass and then returned to his bedroom. 

Maka remained on the couch in the living room, convincing herself that she didn’t need to tell Soul about the nightmares. They were only nightmares and wouldn’t affect their lives or their missions, she persuaded herself. Yeah, they didn’t matter. She was alright and the nightmares would eventually go away on their own. 

But they didn’t.

Things didn’t start going wrong until the next day.

…

The sun rose over Death City and the day looked promising, nothing like the night. The sky was crystal-clear and beautifully blue, the air was warm with a faint breeze, the sun was laughing contentedly, and the Academy was perched high above watching over everything that went on below. Summer was on its way. All the flowers were in full bloom, the birds were singing, and the Academy’s students were all out and about either training, going to class, or heading off on missions.

Neither Soul nor Maka mentioned what had happened the night before even though there was a gash in the back of Soul’s scalp from the broken painting. They just got on Soul’s motorbike and headed to the Academy. They were just coming off a long mission and it was time for some between-mission training with Professor Stein.

They arrived at the training fields right on time and Stein was waiting for them, smoking.

“Hey kids,” Stein said and blew out a skull-shaped smoke cloud. “Ready to get down to it?”

They both nodded and Soul’s body dissolved into his weapon form in a shower of bright light. Maka caught her Death Scythe and twirled him around expertly. No one knew just yet if Soul was a stronger weapon than Spirit Albarn, but Maka had a feeling he was and Maka was officially going to go down in history as the youngest meister to ever create a Death Scythe. Everyone was so proud of them and her heart soared, glowing and chasing away the fear left by her nightmares.

Then, she became aware that something was off.

Soul felt… heavy in her hands… and hot. He wasn’t burning her as he had once before, but he wasn’t pleasant for her to hold. Normally, holding Soul was bliss for her. They were so closely connected, trusted each other so deeply, that she loved fighting with him. But now… something was… wrong!

“Ready?” Stein asked. 

Maka nodded, trying to ignore the strangeness that had come over her. 

“Resonate with Soul.”

She wet her lips and closed her eyes, reaching out with her wavelength and trying to connect with Soul. She could feel him reaching for her as well, but she just couldn’t reach him. It was as if they were magnets, repelling each other no matter how hard they tried to touch.

“What’s wrong?” Stein asked when the two weren’t able to match wavelengths immediately. 

Maka squeezed her eyes closed tightly and desperately reached out, but she just couldn’t get a grip on Soul. She could barely even feel the presence of his soul and her own felt wildly out of reach. Her soul… why did it feel so dark and heavy? Why did she feel so strange? It was like she was trapped within her nightmare once again.

“Maybe we should stop,” Soul offered gently.

Gasping, she nodded. “Yeah.”

“What’s wrong?” Stein asked them. 

“I don’t know,” Soul said and transformed back into his human body. Carefully, he supported Maka with her arm slung over his shoulders and his arm looped around her waist. “Maka, what’s wrong?” he asked his meister without looking at Stein.

Maka wet her lips. 

She couldn’t ignore the nightmares anymore. She had to admit that they were interfering with her life now. Even worse, they were getting in the way of her resonance with Soul. Since Soul was Death Scythe now, he had to go out on missions. She couldn’t be getting in his way.

“It’s okay,” Maka whispered. “We can take care of it.”

Soul eyed her, his gaze soft.

“Alright then,” Stein said and blew out another stream of smoke. “We’ll try this again tomorrow.”

Maka nodded and gently tugged Soul back towards their apartment. In silence, they walked back together. Maka was leaning heavily on Soul, her body trembling slightly. Soul’s arms around her felt so strong, so secure, so… trustworthy. He wouldn’t hurt her like he did in her nightmares. He was nothing like Giriko, but…

Soul opened the door, guided her inside, and helped her sit down on the couch. Then, he sat beside her and cautiously retracted his hands from hers. There was a smear of blood on the wall where his head had struck it the night before. He absently winced at the memory.

“Maka?” he asked softly.

She sighed heavily. “Soul, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “This is… all my fault.”

“What is?” 

She met his eyes and then gently hugged him. 

“Maka?” Nervously, he laid his hands on her back and rubbed her tenderly. 

“After what happened with… Giriko, I’ve been having nightmares,” she whispered.

He hugged her tight, stroking her hair. He understood her so well that he didn’t press her. He just held her and waited. Eventually, she would tell him everything. They were that close—they were partners, bonded at the soul level.

“And last night, the nightmare changed… For a while, it’s just been… about what Giriko almost did to me.”

“But I saved you,” he murmured.

She nodded. “I know, but still… I can’t get what happened out of my head.”

Soul dipped his head, resting his chin on the top of her head. 

“And last night, I dreamed that after Giriko… raped me… you raped me.”

He tightened his arms around her. “I would never do that to you.”

She fisted her hands in his shirt. “I know,” she whispered. “But it was just so real. When I woke up and you were there…”

He hushed her. “I understand.”

Maka snuggled against him. “Thank you, Soul.” Then, she lifted her chin and kissed him full on the lips.

Sputtering, Soul pushed her back. “What—?”

“Please, Soul… I… I want to replace what happened with something else.”

She kissed him again. 

He was along with whatever she wanted partially because he was her weapon and therefore an extension of her body and soul, partially because he cared for her so deeply it was like they were already parts of each other, partially because he wanted this as much as she did.

Soul twined his arms around her small body and kissed her deeply, his tongue slipping past her lips and tangling with hers in a sloppy dance. She threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled him close, kissing him almost with desperation. Soul pressed her back into the cushions of the couch and settled on top of her, his mouth burning a path from her lips to her throat. Maka wrapped her arms around his back, her nails raking his skin through his clothing. 

Her knees were digging into her stomach painfully. “Maka,” he breathed. 

She must have sensed his discomfort through their souls because she cautiously parted her legs and wrapped them around his narrow hips. He could feel the heat of her sex through his trousers and the blood rushed to his loins. He unconsciously pressed his hips down and rubbed his hard arousal against her moist crotch. 

She groaned, clutching him closer and pressing her lips to the side of his throat. Her small hands untucked his shirt and slipped beneath the fabric. Her fingers traced the sensitive path of his scar, sending a shudder through him. “You saved my life,” she whispered.

He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “You are mine,” he murmured.

Her eyes welled with tears. “I… I love you,” she blurted out.

Soul stared at her, uncomprehending. “What?”

She turned away sharply. “Nothing,” she said.

“It’s not cool to take back words like that, Maka.”

She met his eyes and a single tear ran down her cheek.

“Say it again,” he whispered and kissed away the tear. “Please.”

“I… I love you,” she breathed out.

Soul kissed her and, abruptly, his wavelength poured into her. The soothing waves washed over her, the pain and fear left by her nightmares of Giriko just dissolving into nothingness. His warm slightly-twisted soul cradled and worshipped her own, melding together even more perfectly than when they danced together. Soul was her everything, her weapon, her guardian, her best friend, and now… dare she say it, the love of her life and her lover.

Maka ran her hands over his damaged chest and then kissed the top of his scar near his shoulder. She snaked out her tongue and licked him gently, relishing the texture and taste of his skin. The scar felt slightly cooler than the rest of him.

Gingerly, he cupped her through her panties and gently teased her clit. When she was soft and wet and begging beneath him, he slipped his fingers beneath the thin cotton barrier and stroked her. She threw her head back, a cry of bliss escaping her mouth.

“Ah, Soul,” she whispered.

He kissed her deeply and swallowed her moans as he pushed on finger into her tight wet heat. He could feel her virgin barrier and a shiver ran through him. Maka’s body had never seemed fragile to him until this moment when he discovered this part of her that had never before been touched. 

He must had hesitated to touch her because Maka suddenly cupped him through his trousers and pressed against his throbbing erection. He groaned, biting his lower lip and tossing his head back in pleasure. She fumbled at his belt for a moment and finally tugged down his pants. He was wearing black boxers with lots of little white musical notes on them and she smiled softly. 

He blushed. “It’s laundry day.”

“They’re adorable,” she said and kissed him. 

Soul tugged open her blouse and unfastened her bra, cupping her bare flesh. Her breasts were so small, barely enough to fill his palms, and she flushed with embarrassment. She tried to hide herself behind her hands, but he pulled them away, placing soft kisses on the inside of her wrists. Her pulse was racing.

“I’m sorry. I wish I had more for you to… umm…”

“You’re beautiful, Maka,” he said softly.

She blushed. “Thank you.”

He smiled at her, his teeth sharp and white. Then, he dipped his head and kissed her again. Then, there weren’t any more words between them. They were superfluous. Through their linked souls, he could feel her desire and she could feel his love. They didn’t need to speak. They were that close, that special, that precious to each other.

Soul pressed against his meister’s body, naked chest to chest with her legs wrapped around his naked hips. He helped her get out of her skirt and panties and she cried out in pleasure as his heated erection brushed against her aching sex. She gasped his name and he gently positioned himself at her entrance. 

She was still a virgin and he just had to ask. She was his soul mate.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded, gripping his broad shoulders.

Soul pushed into her fast, not giving her any time to think about the pain. Her virgin barrier broke with an unpleasant gush of wetness and she cried out softly, clinging to him. He soothed her with his soul, imagining the song he had once played for her on the piano. The music washed through her and she relaxed. He began to move inside her, his pace slow and gentle at first but gaining tempo. 

Making love with Soul was almost like his music. It was a little bit painful and twisted by her first time, but his love was so pure that it washed everything else away. His tempo stared slow and gentle, bringing her together with him. Then, his pace increased, rising in pace and rhythm as the pleasure overthrew all the pain she felt. Then, he put his finger precisely on that spot and it was as if he struck that special note. 

Maka screamed his name as Soul pulled her into the rift of dazzlement and pleasure.

Then, panting, he cradled her against his damaged chest and they lay together on the couch in a tangle of naked limbs and emotions. They weren’t even trying to, but Maka could feel Soul’s soul. It was inches away from her own and gently, she touched it. His feelings and emotions poured into her, mingled with beautiful music. They were closer than they ever had been before and Maka was almost grateful to Giriko.

“I love you, Maka,” Soul whispered and pressed a kiss to her temple. “And I’ll always love you.”

She burrowed into his chest, into the castle of his arms. “I know, Soul, I know.”

X X X

Suggestions welcome in Private Messages. If you leave on in a review, you risk me completely forgetting that it exists. 

Questions, comments, concerns?

Gee, could this had turned out any longer…


	2. Betrayal and Making Up

Summary: After the absolute betrayal of Soul, Maka has to find a way to make everything up to her partner.

X X X

As it turned out, Maka had created a Death Scythe, but her mission in life was still incomplete. Soul Eater Evans, her weapon partner, even after eating the soul of the witch Arachne, was not a stronger weapon than the Death Scythe Kami Albarn had created. Maka’s worthless man-whore of a father was still the strongest Death Scythe and Soul was not.

Professor Franken Stein had been the one to decide, his opinion completely unbiased because he and Spirit hated each other and Stein quite liked Soul. But even so, Spirit was the stronger weapon. Soul was just too young. He had some talents that Spirit did not, like his Noise Cancelling ability that came from his musical background, but his soul was too small and weak. 

But Maka was never one to be put down by a simple obstacle like that. She was bound and determined to make Soul stronger so that he could surpass her father as Lord Death’s personal weapon. Even if she had to fight another witch, even if she had to collect ninety-nine more kishin eggs, even if she had to defeat the kishin Asura herself. She vowed that she would make Soul stronger. She would make Soul strong enough to surpass her dad!

Maka’s head was so filled with these thoughts that she was only half-paying-attention to her sparring match with Professor Stein. She parried and feinted, twirling Soul expertly in her hands. His wavelength melded with hers, resonating to the beat of some unknown music. 

Soul was amazing! How was he weaker than her father? Soul could fly with her assistance. Soul had black blood inside his body. Soul could fight back the madness—something not even Stein could do. Yet somehow, her worthless papa was stronger than Soul.

Why?

Why? 

Why? 

She studied Soul’s wavelength as they fought Stein, watching it pulse strongly and then fall back. His wavelength was almost like music, rising and falling to an unspoken tempo. When his soul reached its peak and resonated with hers, they were able to easily push Stein back. If only she could find a way to keep Soul’s wavelength at its peak. 

If only she could make it stay there. Then he would easily be at least as strong at Spirit. 

But for now, Spirit was the stronger weapon.

This couldn’t be happening to her! Not to her! She had created a Death Scythe! She had defeated the heretic witch, Arachne! Hell, she was Maka Albarn! 

Soul’s wavelength spiked again and Maka timed her attack to the unknown beat. Stein was actually pushed back a few feet by the force of their powerful Witch Hunter. A thin cut ran down the mad scientist’s face, crimson blood dripping down his cheek.

Then, Soul’s wavelength fell back into a lull and Maka dipped back, blocking Stein’s attacks. They could hold their own against Stein easily and when Soul’s wavelength peaked, they could even push him back. All she needed was for Soul’s stupid wavelength to stay at its height.

A strange anger consumed her.

Be strong, Soul! Be stronger than Spirit!

Without thinking, Maka dug her claws into Soul’s wavelength and tore it to her, ripping her partner’s soul up to its peak. She was barely aware of the scream of pain that rippled through Soul’s entire body and mind and soul. She was barely aware of Stein shouting something and pulling at her hands. Then, there was a flash of light and a searing pain as Stein blasted her with his wavelength. Howling, Maka was tossed backwards by the force and her body skidded across the hard ground. She lay there for a moment, stunned and panting for breath.

“Soul, are you alright?” Stein asked gently.

Soul gasped, his voice a whine of agony. “Yeah, I’m okay…”

Maka sat up, pushing her bangs out of her face. 

Soul glanced at her when he saw her move and there was something strange in his eyes. Was it… fear? Hurt? Anger? Power? No, it was none of those things, Maka realized and the full impact of what she had done to her partner hit her. His blood-colored eyes looked… betrayed.

“Oh god,” she whispered and pressed her hands to her mouth.

“Maka, what were you thinking?” Stein asked. He had one hand resting gently on Soul’s trembling back, lightly supporting him. Had she really hurt Soul that badly? So badly that he needed Stein to hold him up? “You could have—” He broke off, watching Maka’s face.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks.

“I’m okay,” Soul said again. “Just… help me up.”

Stein nodded and pulled Soul to his feet. The young Death Scythe wavered on his feet, sucked in a deep breath, pulled himself together, and stood up straight. He composed his face into a mask of cool carelessness, but it only lasted a moment. Then, he winced in agony and clutched at his chest. 

“I’m so sorry,” Maka whispered.

Soul didn’t say anything, only nodded to her and slithered past her. Limping and gasping for breath, Soul left the training grounds and disappeared into Death City. He was clearly making a beeline for home, almost as if someone was chasing him.

“Soul!” Maka shouted.

Stein grabbed Maka’s shoulder fiercely and pulled her back. “What were you thinking, Maka?”

She tried to wrench away from him, but the professor wouldn’t let her go.

“Well? You nearly ripped Soul’s wavelength right out of him!” he demanded. “You nearly devoured his soul, Maka!”

Maka sobbed, trying to tear away from Stein. 

He shook her fiercely. “Maka!”

“I don’t know! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” she sobbed out. “I just wanted Soul to be stronger!”

“Soul is strong,” Stein snapped at her. “He’s strong in his own right. He’s strong when he’s with you. Just because your father is the stronger weapon alone doesn’t mean Soul is weak. Don’t you understand that, Maka?”

Tears streamed down her face. “I’m so sorry…”

“You can’t apologize to me, Maka,” Stein said. “You just completely betrayed your weapon partner.”

She whimpered.

Stein let her go and gaze her a small push. “Go home now. Apologize to Soul. Get some sleep. And stop obsessing over making a stronger weapon than your father.”

Sniffling, Maka nodded and followed in Soul’s ragged footprints. Guilt plagued her. What had she been thinking? She had hurt him deeply. She had completely betrayed Soul. She had tried to pull his soul out of his body. When she got home, Soul was in the shower and he had taken his clothes off in the hallway, leaving the blood-stained white shirt in the hall along with his dusty trousers. Blood? Had he been physically hurt by what she had done?

Tears burned in her eyes and throat. “I’m so sorry, Soul…”

The water shut off and Soul stepped out of the bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips. There were strange marks on his chest, almost like someone had dug their fingers into his chest just over his heart. The marks were bloody and dark, raked with bruises. Coupled with the scar that bisected his chest, he looked like a corpse that had been pieced back together. When he saw her, he froze. His blood-colored eyes were wide and desperate, like a deer trapped in the path of an oncoming truck.

“Soul,” she whispered.

“I’m alright,” he said softly and hid the mark on his chest with his palm. “I… I am.”

She took a step towards him, reaching out. “Soul please—”

He stumbled back from her, his eyes wide with fear. “Don’t!”

Tears rolled down her pale face, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. She had screwed up so completely and totally that she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to repair their bond. “Soul, please, can we just… talk? I didn’t mean to…”

“But you did, Maka,” he whispered.

“Soul—”

“I just… need a little time,” Soul whispered and lowered his hand from the welts left on his chest. “Look what you did to me.”

“I didn’t mean you. Please, Soul!”

“Maka, I have black blood inside my body,” he said softly. “Since our battle with Chrona, every time we resonate together, the madness encourages me to devour your soul. But I always hold on and I would never hurt you.” He fingered his scar. “I would die for you, Maka.”

Maka stifled a sob.

“But you…” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I just… need a little time. I’ll be okay…”

She called out his name, but he ducked into the shadows of his bedroom and she heard him put on a record. The apartment fell silent and Maka felt Soul’s soul retract within itself like a snail curling up within the safety of its shell. God, she had really and truly hurt him. Maka went into her own bedroom, lay down, and cried herself to sleep.

… 

A little more than a week passed. 

Neither Soul nor Maka had told any of their friends what had happened between them—Maka’s complete betrayal of Soul’s trust. It was almost as horrible as the way Ragnarok treated his poor meister, Chrona. The fingerprint-shaped welts that Maka had left on Soul’s chest had faded into only faint scars. He had returned to her side as trusted weapon and partner, but occasionally, she felt his soul holding back. He was nervous around her, waiting for another jolting betrayal. 

Maka had to do something to change what had happened between them—anything! But she didn’t know what to do. How do you make up for something like this? Maka chewed her lower lip. She had read somewhere that couples often had make-up sex, but she and Soul weren’t a couple. Maybe, the same principle would apply here anyway. It wasn’t as if things could get any worse between them… 

She may as well try it.

So, with that on her mind, she slithered into Victoria’s Secret, picked up something to boost her confidence, and hurried home. She didn’t want anyone to see her, especially Soul. What would he think if he saw her coming home with sexy lingerie? He would probably think she was whoring like Blair, once again betraying his trust.   
They were partners, they belonged to each other first and foremost.

She had about an hour and half before Soul came home from sparring with Kid and BlackStar. Maka showered, shaved her legs, trimmed her pubic hair, and dressed in the lacy panties and bra she had purchased. Then, she shrugged into a robe and got on the internet. She was a virgin. She had barely fooled around with her own body and she had certainly never seen a man’s… thing. She was going to need some pointers and directions. 

So, as embarrassing as it was, she surfed for porn.

It was shocking! Frightening! Lewd and horrible! But it was kind of like a gigantic car wreck. As hard as it was to watch, she just couldn’t tear her eyes away from the screen. She watched for a while until she thought she had the hang of what she would need to do to please Soul. 

Then, the front door opened and Soul’s voice echoed through the apartment. “I’m home!”

Maka took a deep breath, encouraged herself, and whispered, “Showtime.” She untied the robe and let it slide down over her shoulders. She told herself that she was beautiful, that her breasts weren’t that tiny, that she was doing this for Soul… 

And she stepped out of her bedroom to see Soul shrugging out of his leather jacket in the foyer. It was warm outside and he was sweaty. His white shirt was clinging to the strength of his chiseled shoulders, laying against his defined muscles. His jeans were hugging his ass and Maka felt a flush of heat go straight south and settle there. Soul was so handsome. 

How could she have ever hurt her precious partner?

“Maka, I’m home,” Soul said again as he toed off his shoes. “Where are you?”

She took a deep breath, let the robe fall a little more, and sauntered into the foyer where her weapon partner was standing. From behind, she wrapped her arms around his torso and pressed flush against him. Soul tensed and she could feel his muscles rippling beneath his honey-bronze skin. Beneath the fabric, she could also feel the ridge of his scar—the scar that had saved her life.

“M-Maka,” he gasped out. “W-what are you doing?”

“I wanted to apologize, Soul,” she whispered.

He sighed and laid his hands over hers. “I’m alright, Maka, really.”

His soul spoke otherwise, the wavelength dipping and rising nervously as she stroked the path of his scar. He was still a little afraid, still hurt, still betrayed. But she hoped to change all that. She hoped that, with this, they could make up and be partners again.

“Soul,” she whispered and ran her hands down his chest. Boldly, she cupped his genitals through his jeans and stroked him lightly, teasingly.

He sucked in some air. “What are you…?”

“I want to make up for what happened,” Maka whispered. “I was hoping we could make up.”

“With sex?” he choked out.

She nodded into his back. “Will you let me do this for you, Soul?”

“You don’t have to…”

“I want to,” she whispered. “Please.”

He trembled in her arms.

“Soul?” she asked again. The last thing she wanted to do was jump his bones without his permission. Raping her partner would be pretty high on the list of betrayals she could perform. 

Slowly, he nodded. “I am your weapon, Maka. You can do what you want to me.”

She kissed the back of his neck, straining to reach. She dropped the robe and circled to stand in front of him. For a moment, she nervously smiled at him and then pressed herself flush against his body. His hands cupped her bare shoulders, thumbs stroking gently. 

“Maka, you look…”

She blushed and put a finger to his lips. “Don’t. This isn’t about me. It’s about you.” 

Then, she dropped to her knees in front of him and quickly unfastened his belt. His pants pooled around his feet and she wet her lips nervously as she studied the tent in his blue bone-patterned boxers. He looked… pretty big. She tugged down his boxers and gently wrapped her fingers around his member, stroking nervously. Her fingers flit over the mushroomed head of him, teasing the slit weeping precum. He groaned, his head tipping back. Then, he staggered.

“Do you want to sit down?” she asked him.

He nodded.

Maka let him go and he staggered into the living room, sitting heavily on the couch and panting for breath. Like most teenage males, he had discovered masturbation and stuck to it. He had never felt anything other than his own touch though and the feeling of Maka’s small hands was like unbelievable heaven. Once he was seated, she came to kneel in front of him, bracing her hands lightly on his naked knees. She wet her lips nervously and then gently gripped him again.

This time, she opened her mouth and engulfed the head of him into the heat of her mouth. He yelped in pleasure, tangling his hands in her ash-blonde hair. He tasted incredibly salty and rather unpleasant, but she didn’t care. She persevered, licking the throbbing vein at the side of his erection and teasing the sensitive head. She licked and suckled, teasing his balls gingerly. She knew how sensitive they were and she didn’t want to risk hurting Soul. 

He groaned, tugging on her hair. Clearly, he wanted to thrust into her mouth like she had seen men doing on the porn site, but he was resisting. He didn’t want to hurt her as much as she didn’t want to hurt him. For that she was grateful and hummed low in her throat. The vibrations went into Soul’s erection and he nearly came on the spot. Desperately, he pushed her back and gasped out, “Don’t! I’m going to…”

“What? Did I do something wrong?” Maka asked.

He shook his head. “No, it’s just that…” He blushed.

Maka smiled softly. “Were you going to… cum?”

He nodded slowly, his cheeks red.

“It’s okay,” she whispered and kissed his knee. “I want you to. Cum for me, Soul.”

He nodded again, meeting her eyes. She was so earnest, so straight-forward, and she was trying so hard to mend things between them. Even though she had accidentally hurt him so badly, she was more than willing to try to make it up to him. 

“Maka, I—”

Then, she took him into her mouth again and he forgot everything he was going to say. She hummed deep in her throat again and he only lasted another split second. When Soul exploded into her mouth, Maka was certain she wouldn’t be able to swallow like the girls in the porn had. It was so thick and hot and salty and bitter that she nearly gagged. She struggled, trying to swallow. 

“Don’t,” Soul said softly and cupped her hand beneath her chin. “Spit it out.”

Her eyes watered as she looked into his face. He was smiling softly down at her, his blood-colored eyes glowing in the dimness of the room. He trusted her again and it almost looked like maybe his feelings were… stronger than that… Could he love her? Even though Maka wanted to show Soul how much she cared for him, she just couldn’t swallow the cum. She spit into his hand and then sighed in relief. 

Naked, Soul made his way through the living room to wash his hand. On his way back, he picked up Maka’s discarded robe and stuffed himself into it. Then, he returned to the couch where she was waiting for him with her face open and honest. 

“Soul, do you… forgive me?” she asked.

Gently, he kissed her cheek. “I do,” he said softly.

A single tear rolled down her face. “Thank God,” she said and threw her arms around him tightly. “Thank God. I’m so sorry, Soul…”

He embraced her. “I know you are.”

She muffled a sob against his chest. “Why would you forgive me?” she whispered suddenly.

“Because you care enough about me to do this for me. I know you won’t hurt me again,” he told her and stroked her hair back from her face.

She nodded. “I won’t.”

He smiled, showing her his sharp white teeth. “And Maka…”

“Hmm?”

He slipped his fingertip into the lacy cup of her bra, still grinning. “You look beautiful.”

X X X

I thought I’d try something new. Only Soul got sexed in this chapter. So, how does everyone like that? I feel like straight lemons, lemons, lemons can get a little monotonous.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Requests?


	3. Punishment and Payback

Summary: When Soul catches Maka in his room, he decides a little payback is in order. It’s a vicious cycle.

X X X

Soul Eater Evans would always remember the day he figured out what his partner did when he wasn’t around. It was kind of an accident and he wondered how long he would have gone on not knowing if it hadn’t rained that day. He had been sparring with Death the Kid and the Thompson sisters when the skies just opened up and the group made a beeline for the safety of their respective homes. Soul was soaked to the skin by the time he reached the apartment he shared with Maka so he didn’t bother calling out to her. He just went to his room, his mind full of thoughts of dry clothes and a hot bath, but a soft sound interrupted him.

Was someone… moaning?

And it sounded suspiciously like Maka’s voice, too.

The first thing that came to mind was that she really didn’t care about him beyond the feelings a meister should have for her weapon. She was in her room, having sex with someone else. Then, he heard her whimper out his name and his mind turned to two possibilities. One, she was still having sex with someone else and they were doing some twisted heart-breaking role play. Two, maybe she was being raped and had given up screaming for him to save her. Soul rocketed down the hallway and pushed open the door to her bedroom, but it was empty. 

Okay, maybe she was watching… porn?

Soul turned away and headed back to his bedroom for dry clothes. Whatever Maka was up to, her sex life was really none of his business anyway. He would just give himself heartache if he meddled in her heart too much. They were partners, meister and weapon, and that was all. He would have to be content with that. He heard that soft moan again and froze in his tracks. That sound… it was very distinctly coming from his room! Soul peeked through the crack between the door and the jamb and he was pretty certain that all the blood completely left his brain because he felt dizzy for a moment.

Maka was lying on his bed—naked, her long creamy legs spread apart wide—and she was masturbating. Soul could hear the vibrator buzzing from all the way across the room. She was squirming and moaning, pumping the toy frantically in and out of her soaking pussy. There was something pushed inside her asshole, too. She teased her nipples, flicked her clit, and even slipped her fingers into her mouth to suck eagerly. He had never thought he’d see Maka in such an… erotic state. She was gorgeous and all the blood rushed between his legs.

For a moment, not even breathing, Soul stared at his meister helplessly. 

Then, with a ragged cry of his name, she hurtled over the edge of her climax and lay there, panting heavily. She started to sit up, the toy sliding out of her with a wet squelch and landing on the floor loudly. She giggled and then buried her face in his pillow, breathing deeply.

“Oh Soul,” she whispered into the sheets. “That was the best.”

He blushed.

Then, she picked up her toy and headed for the door, smiling in her afterglow. Her body was so beautiful, her breasts incredibly small but her waist thin and shapely and God had left the faucet on a long time when he poured those legs. With her hair down and her cheeks flushed and her slit still glistening with moisture, Soul wanted nothing more than to take her right at that moment. But… She was only a few feet from the door.

With a jolt, Soul realized he was going to be caught peeping on her and tore back to the front door at light speed. He wrenched it open, slammed it behind him, and hollered as if he had just gotten back, “I’m home, Maka!”

“Okay!” she said cheerfully. She always answered him that cheerfully when she had had the house to herself for a few hours and now he knew why.

He grinned, thinking about his bed and wondering how many times Maka had pleasured herself on his sheets. Then, an even better thought occurred to him. What would happen if he confronted Maka about what she had been doing on his bed? Doing to herself while crying out his name? What if he could punish her?

…

Maka’s skin was sensitive and flushed. To coin a phrase, she was hot and bothered. It had been so close! She had just finished riding out her orgasm when Soul came home. What if he had been just a moment earlier and spotted her in his room, on his bed, naked and pleasuring herself? It could have gotten very ugly, very quickly, and Maka didn’t want to risk throwing their soul wavelengths out of sync by putting a relationship in the way.

Soul was too important to her to risk losing him.

She couldn’t bear to have Soul cheat on her like Spirit did to Kami. It had broken her parents’ partnership.

If that happened to Soul and her… she wasn’t sure what she could do. Soul was special, he was her partner, he was her guardian, he was her everything.

Things would just have to remain the way they were until some cataclysm took place and split them at the seams.

Maka prayed with all her heart that would never happen to them.

She loved Soul too much.

She slithered quickly into her bedroom and closed the door tightly. She couldn’t risk Soul seeing her like this—hot and flushed and aroused. She quickly dressed in her favorite green-and-yellow striped cotton pajamas, pulling on clean panties but forgoing the bra. It was only Soul after all. He didn’t care if her flat-chest lacked a bra. Hell, he probably wouldn’t even notice. She glowered at her reflection in the mirror as she slipped her vibrator into the secret place at the back of her underwear drawer.

Then, she exited her bedroom and padded barefoot into the kitchen-slash-living-room where Soul was sitting on the couch, toweling his silver hair dry. He looked so handsome, his skin the color of honey and his shoulders defined with muscles. In light of what she had just been doing, she could feel a hot flush begin heading south to settle right in her clit. She was suddenly very away of a certain part of Soul’s anatomy that she desperately wanted. What would the real thing be like?

She shook herself, pushing those thoughts into the back of her mind for the next time she had the house to herself. “Is it raining hard?” she asked him and went to peer out the window.

“Definitely, Maka,” Soul said. “I got caught in it on my way home. I’m soaked.” He pulled the towel down over his head, his silvery hair hanging over his eyes in just the most sexy way. 

Without thinking, Maka whispered, “Me too.”

Soul eyed her, grinning. “You’re wet, Maka? Where? Should I get you a towel, too?”

Her face flamed bright red. “N-no! I meant, uh…” Oh god, her mind went complete blank as he smiled at her. All she could think was how gorgeous he was. How sexy the line of his shoulders were, how his shirt clung to his chest and stomach, how his jeans hugged the swell of his ass, and how desperately she just wanted to take his face within her hands and kiss him until he couldn’t breathe. “I, uh, Soul… It’s… I was! I am…” 

Soul smirked. “I saw you in my room, Maka,” he purred. “And I think…” He rose from the couch and stalked towards her like a big cat circling a helpless mouse. She backed away from him until the wall touched her back and she had nowhere else to go. Soul stood in front of her, boxing her in with his hands. His blood-colored eyes were mischievous and sensual. “I think you need to be…” He dipped his head, his breath hot against the shell of her ear. “…punished, Maka.”

A heated shiver ran down her spine and settled in her crotch. “Soul,” she breathed.

His hot tongue wrapped around her earlobe and pulled it into his mouth, teasing with his tongue and teeth. It was loud, the pace of his breath going right into her skull, but she felt like she was going to melt. It felt so good! Better than anything she had managed to do to herself.

He cupped her small breasts through her shirt, his thumbs tracing her nipples. “Oh, no bra, Maka?”

She blushed. 

His mouth pressed against her ear again and he purred, “Are you wearing panties?”

Something in her brain clicked over and her bookworm intelligence returned. “Some things a man should find out for himself,” she retorted cheekily.

Soul grinned and his mouth burned a path down the pulse of her throat that turned her brain into pudding once again. All she could do was melt in his hands like putty as he touched her. He slipped his hand beneath the elastic waistband of her pajama pants and cupped her heated sex. 

“Ah, you are wearing panties,” he said and sucked her collarbone lightly, nipping her soft skin gently. His thumb settled on her clit and began to stroke, swirl, and tease it until he could feel her arousal soaking into the thin cotton of her panties.

A moan escaped her.

“Feel good?” he teased.

She blushed harder. “S-shut up…”

He nudged aside the barrier and pushed one finger inside her. She gasped, moaning, rising up onto her toes in pleasure. He added a second, curling them within her and still tormenting her swollen sensitive clit. Unlike her toy, Soul’s fingers were warm and they moved in strange unpredictable ways. She clutched his shoulders, her head falling back in bliss. She thanked god for the wall behind her back or else she would have fallen clean over. 

Soul stroked and teased her with one hand, the other unbuttoning her pajama top and pushing it open. In a display of flexibility, he lowered his mouth to her nipples while still pumping his fingers within her soaking throbbing pussy. She moaned, threading her fingers through his silver hair and desperately pulling his face closer to his chest. He rolled her nipple between his teeth, tugging and licking alternately. Her legs grew shivery and weak.

The familiar heat was curling in her lower stomach, building to the point of almost pain. She writhed in Soul’s arms, whimpering and moaning. She didn’t think he could possibly make her feel any better before his mouth burned down her chest and he tugged down her pajama pants. She opened her mouth to ask him what he was going to do, but then his tongue snaked through her wet folds and she lost all rational thought.

Soul’s fingers and tongue tortured her until she was nothing but a puddle of girly-goo in his arms, pressed between his hard body and the wall. If she had been conscious of more than the pleasure building at her core, she would have felt Soul’s erection pressing against her. Soul sucked her clit hard, flicking it fast with his tongue. The pace of his fingers increased to the tempo of some unknown beat, curling inside her to stroke her walls.

“I’m…” she gasped, but the rest of her words ended in screaming his name as her orgasm rocked through her body. 

Her knees buckled and Soul hoisted her legs over his shoulders, supporting her weight completely and bracing her with his hands. Her sex was pressed against his mouth and he continued to slurp and lick her even as the last waves of her orgasm spread to her fingers and toes. Completely numb, he had to cradle her in his arms when he finished. He licked his lips and made an unpleasant slurping sound that me her blush to the roots of her hair.

“Well, Maka,” he said cheekily. “Was that punishment enough?”

She glared at him through her lashes and then suddenly noticed the substantial bulge in his jeans. She composed herself, a hard thing to do when you’re half-naked and looking into the face of the guy who just had his head between your legs, but she managed. She was certain she’d be mortified by her actions later, but night now… “Nah,” she said teasingly. “I think I need to be punished a little more.”

Soul’s eyes widened a fraction.

She gripped his erection through his jeans. “You have to punish me with your cock, Soul.”

Hearing those words coming out of her mouth, Soul almost came on the spot, but he fought it back and tried to regain his composure. Sadly, he wasn’t nearly as good at it as Maka was, even with all his clothes on. “O-oh yeah?”

She grinned, rubbing his denim-covered cock. “Yeah,” she purred. Then, she sashayed to the couch and sat down, spreading her legs languidly to reveal her pussy to him. “I’m a bad girl,” she crooned. “I need to be punished, Soul Eater.” Her fingers approached her dripping entrance, spreading the rose-pink folds. “Punish me right here with your cock.”

Soul got out of his jeans, boxers, and shirt at warp speed, leaving a trail to the couch. Maka was blushing now and he was almost relieved to see a trace of his meister underneath the façade of this little minx. But that brought up one more thing he hadn’t yet thought about—her feelings, her virginity, her heart, her soul.

“Maka, are you sure… you want to do this… with me?”

She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips, wrapping her legs around his naked waist and pulling him flush against her. “I’m sure,” she said when they broke apart. “Soul, I… I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

He kissed her, his tongue snaking past her teeth and tangling with hers. She wrapped her fingers around his cock and guided him to her entrance. Since she was so wet and loosened up by her vibrator, Soul didn’t waste time thrusting into her to the hilt. She gasped, her nails raking his bare back and her heels digging into his ass to push him in deeper.

“Ah, Soul, you feel so good…” she moaned out.

He couldn’t speak, no matter how badly he wanted to tell her exactly how wonderful she was. He was too focused on not exploding the instant he entered her. Her channel was so tight and hot, soaked with her juices, and he had a feeling his hand would never compare to this again. It was heaven on earth. 

“Dear god,” was all he finally managed.

“Please, Soul, move!” Maka begged.

“I… I’m not going to last long, Maka.”

She hugged him close, her lips pressing against his throat. “That’s okay. You already gave me…” 

He could feel her face burning.

“This is about you, Soul,” she whispered. “Move, please!”

He nodded, pulled out to the tip, and slammed back into her to the hilt. The head of his cock pressed deep into her, kissing the mouth of her womb. As he had said, he didn’t last long. She felt too good—too hot, too tight, too perfect—and it was his first time inside her. Frantically, he slammed into her, feeling her breasts bounce against his chest with the force of his lovemaking. She threw her head back, gasping his name as the breath exploded from her lungs.

“Ah, Soul!”

The sound of her voice warped with extreme pleasure brought him over the edge. He pulled out quickly almost as an afterthought even though it wasn’t the best preventative measure. His hot seed spilled on her chest and stomach and she curiously traced a finger through it. He leaned forward and rested his head on her shoulder, panting for breath. Maka cradled him in her arms and legs, stroking his hair and naked back. His skin was like living velvet. 

Being with him for real was better than her fantasies. 

“Soul.”

“Hmm?”

“What if I get pregnant?”

“I’ll be with you. I’ll always be with you.”

She smiled and the repeated what she had told his sheets earlier. “Oh Soul. That was the best.”

X X X

Ah, I think I have way to many stories in progress (Crimson Butterflies, Broken Hallelujah, Psychopomp, plus the always-in-progress Lemon Series), but I have a bunch of lemons that I want to get out of my head so I can focus. Oh well… I should be used to this by now. I seem to always have too many stories in progress…

Questions, comments, concerns?


	4. Soul Evans' Maid

Summary: Maka had been the maid of the Evans family for a long time. She thought that Soul was all out of new things to do to her, but he proved to be as creative as he was sexy.

X X X

Maka was doing the dishes, up to arm soapy water to her elbows. The Blue Bonnet china that Mrs. Evans owned was beautiful, decorated with a pattern of little blue birds and pink flowers and scalloped around the edges. Routinely, Maka was supposed to wash the entire set, dry it, and put it back in the china cabinet. She had just finished the china and put it away and had just moved on to the regular day to day cheap porcelain. It was then that Soul Evans made his move on her—he didn’t want to risk his mother’s china, after all. (Aurora Evans would skin them both alive if they broke even a saucer of the Blue Bonnet china.)

Maka was standing at the sink, her back to him. She looked adorable in her cute little French Maid uniform with its short ruffled black skirt, white blouse, sheer black stockings complete with garters, and the frilled apron she wore over the whole getup. Her ash-blonde hair was tumbling loose around her shoulders and she was humming as she worked.

Then, Soul pounced.

From behind, he wrapped his arms around her waist and she cup she was washing slipped from her hands and landed in the sink with a clatter. He pressed his lips behind her ear, breathing loud and hot against her, and then traced the shell with his tongue. She shuddered in pleasure, pushing her hips back against his crotch and grinding just a little.

Soul gripped her hips and made her stop moving. “How are the dishes coming along, Maka?” he purred.

“Good, Soul. I’m almost finished and then I’ll bring up your lunch,” Maka said.

He licked the back of her neck. “And what’s for lunch?”

“Is there something special you want?”

Soul pushed his hips against her ass and she felt the hard bulge of his arousal pressing through the cleft of her cheeks. She moaned a little at the friction, lifting her hips higher and finding it incredibly hard to focus on the task at hand. She was so focused on the feeling of his erection pressing against her that she almost missed his next words.

“I’d like fruit and cream for lunch, Maka,” he purred.

“Ah, as soon as I’m finished with this,” she gasped out, stifling a moan.

He traced the shell of her ear with his tongue and sucked her earlobe. “Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

“O-of course,” Maka said breathlessly.

Soul’s arms slipped from around her waist and she heard his footsteps retreating from the kitchen. Surreptitiously, she checked to see if she was still wearing panties. Once, she had been so distracted by his touch that when she got home she realized he had relieved her of her underwear without her even noticing. Everything was still intact as far as she could tell.

Maka finished up the dishes, dried and put them away, and then began putting together Soul’s lunch. She had a feeling he had something more than lunch planned, but she wasn’t sure what. She got the whipped cream out of the fridge, took some chopsticks out of the drawer, and cut up a collection of fresh strawberries. Then, she settled everything on a tray and carried it upstairs to Soul’s bedroom. She could hear smooth jazz wafting under the door and a shudder ran through her. 

What was he planning…?

She rapped on the door lightly.

“Come on in, Maka,” Soul called.

She pushed open his door and sashayed in with the tray. Soul looked up when she entered and smiled at her with all his sharp white shark teeth and Maka suddenly had a feeling that she was going to be lunch. She set the tray down on his desk just beside his elbow and folded her hands politely. 

“Can I get you anything else?” she asked him.

He licked his lips.

Heat that started in her heart rushed south and settled there.

He angled his chin. “Take off your clothes and lie down on the table.”

“Table?” she repeated and glanced in the direction he gestured. Sure enough, Soul had set up a small folding table in the middle of his room. Maka looked from the table to him and back again. “What are you planning to do with that?”

He smirked. “You’ll find out faster if you do what I say, Maka.”

Her mouth went dry and she swallowed with difficulty. 

Soul smiled at her, turned in his chair, and sat watching her as she stripped out of her maid’s uniform. Maka did so teasingly, bending over to peel of her stockings and the leisurely unbuttoning her blouse to expose her small breasts cupped in a lacy white bra. Naked, she twirled for his approval and then languidly stretched out on the cool table. Her nipples rose to peaks as the cool air kissed her skin and she folded her hands on her stomach.

He crossed the room towards her and dipped his head, feathering his lips across her breasts and stomach. Maka moaned, threading his fingers through his silvery hair, and he pulled her hands down. Still kissing her, he pinned them above her head and burned a wet trail from her navel to her mouth. While he was busy kissing her, Maka suddenly heard a click and something cool settled around her wrists. She was handcuffed to the table.

“Soul?” she asked, a little tremor in her voice.

She had never been bothered by the strange and somewhat illegal relationship they had until this moment when he handcuffed her and they were completely alone in the house. If he were to rape her, she would have to quit her job and the Evans paid well. She needed the money she made here to live on and the sex she had with Soul made the need for a boyfriend obsolete. 

He kissed her lips gently. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly. “You can trust me.”

She nodded, still looking at him nervously.

“I’ll un-cuff you if you want,” he offered and pulled the keys from the pocket of his jeans.

She let out a breath of relief. “No, I’m okay,” she said with a smile. “Keep going.”

Soul kissed her, pushing his tongue into her mouth and making out with her until she was light-headed with bliss. Then, he licked his way down her body to her thighs. She spread her legs wide, eager for him to get to her core, but he teasingly kissed the insides of her thighs. His silver hair tickled her sex and she whimpered.

“Please, Soul…”

“All in good time,” he purred. Then, he picked up the tray and set it down beside her hip. “Yum, strawberries and whipped cream. Good choice, Maka, even though you’re not going to be the one eating them.”

She blushed hotly. “D-don’t say things like that.”

“Why?” He picked up a halved strawberry with the chopsticks and set it down in the valley of her breasts. “Does it turn you on, Maka?”

If possible, she blushed even harder.

Soul picked up several more strawberries and set them down in several different places on her naked body. Then, he shook the can of whipped cream and teasingly trailed the tip over her nipples and down her stomach. She whined, rubbing her thighs together desperately. Soul sprayed a mound of cool whipped cream on her soaking pussy and lowered his face to take a long slow lick. 

She gasped out his name, whining and straining. Her body was on fire, melting at the core, and he was just teasing her. He grinned, watching the lovely maid squirm beneath the mounds of whipped cream and strawberries. She really did look good enough to eat, but he had a few different things in mind before he moved on to the main course, so to speak.

He picked up the chopsticks again and pinched her nipple between them. She moaned, her back arching, as he tugged and twisted her nipple with the chopsticks. Then, he moved to the other nipple and did the same—pinching, twisting, and teasing the hard little peaks. Finally, he trailed the chopsticks teasingly down her abdomen and moved in on his prize. He found her clit with the chopsticks and began to tug, tease, and twirl it until she was a pleading little puddle on his table. 

“Do you like this, Maka?” he asked her and tugged her clit, sliding the chopsticks around on either side of it. “I’d love to pluck this little morsel right off your body and eat it.”

She could only gasp out something resembling his name. 

Soul lowered his mouth to her breasts and began to eat his lunch, licking the strawberries and whipped cream up with deliberate slowness. She moaned and writhed beneath his mouth, begging softly. He rolled her nipple between his teeth and kissed his way down her stomach. He was just about to reach her aching core when he stopped and pulled away.

Maka groaned at the loss of him. “Soul, please…”

“All in good time, Maka, all in good time.”

He selected a fat whole strawberry with the chopsticks, leaving her clit neglected and starving, and scrutinized it. “This looks like a good one, right?”

She nodded, her vision hazy with want.

Soul grinned, licked his lips, and parted her slick nether lips with his fingers. “I think a little more lunch is needed here,” he said as if to himself and used the chopsticks to push the strawberry inside her. She cried out sharply, throwing her head back and lifting her hips desperately as he pumped the small fruit in and out of her aching pussy. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.

“P-please,” she begged.

“No. I think there’s not enough cream…” 

Soul shook the whipped cream canister, pushed the tip inside her, and filled her to bursting with cream. The coolness filled her up, melted, and trickled out to mix with her juices. She had never felt so sloppy and wet and desperate in her entire life. Soul pulled the chopsticks out, leaving the strawberry buried inside her and she moaned pleadingly. He selected another strawberry and added it inside her, the cream and juices squishing out. Then, he pinched her clit again, watching her body buck desperately.

“Okay,” he said. “I think my lunch is ready.”

Maka tugged against the handcuffs. “Soul,” she began.

But then his hot mouth found her clit and she lost all coherent thought process. All she could think about was his mouth and the strawberries and cream he had filled her with. This brought on new meaning to the phrase ‘eating a girl out,’ but she was so desperate for him that she didn’t even care. Soul’s tongue pushed inside her and she could feel it moving around as he slurped up whipped cream and a few small strawberries. He pinched her clit between his fingers and devoted his entire mouth to devouring her. 

Maka moaned and twisted, pushing her hips down desperately towards him. It felt so good! And then, almost too soon, it was over. With her body cleaned of the whipped cream and strawberries, he straightened up to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Delicious,” Soul said with a smirk.

She blushed hotly. “Did you just finish your meal?”

He pushed one finger inside her and she screamed his name.

“I don’t know about finished, but that was a delicious lunch you prepared for me, Maka.”

“W-what’s for dessert?” she panted once the sensation subsided.

“You don’t get any dessert. You’re sweet enough,” Soul said and began to wrestle his way out of his too-tight jeans. He collected a ribbed-for-her-pleasure, ultra-thin-for-his condom from his nightstand drawer and rolled it on, languidly stroking himself. “But I get you.” 

Naked, he got up onto the table, pulled her legs up over his shoulders, and slid deep into her. Maka moaned as his impossible hardness filled her to the brim. He was so hot compared to the cool whipped cream and much bigger than the strawberries. With her legs lifted as high as they were, he felt extraordinarily deep inside her. It was pure heaven and she moaned out his name, clenching her muscles around his cock so that he hissed in pleasure.

Soul hitched her hips up a little bit higher to give himself better access and began to thrust. Her small breasts bounced and he cupped them in his hands, pinching her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. She threw her head back, her mouth falling open in pleasure, and Soul took advantage to slip his tongue in. She moaned as he thrust into her mouth with the same pace he set below. He didn’t even have to touch her clit to bring her swiftly to the knife’s edge of pleasure.

She was so sensitive from his teasing that it wouldn’t take much. She panted desperately as he slammed into her to the hilt at a breakneck pace, his body hot and hard and gorgeous. She wished her hands were free so that she could cling to him, but there was something sexy about being tied down. She settled for squeezing him with her thighs as he sent her body screaming into the abyss of her orgasm. Soul wasn’t far behind her.

He remained kneeling between her legs, softening inside her for a moment, before pulling out and discarding the condom. He pulled his jean back up, commando, and fetched the keys to the handcuffs. Before unlocking her, he ran his hands over her sensitive pearl and nipples and lips. She moaned, looking into his handsome face, as he freed her. Then, she sat up to rub her wrists. They were a little red and a little raw, but it wasn’t very noticeable.

“Did that hurt you?” he asked and took her wrists in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over the mark and then kissing her skin gently.

“A little, but I liked it,” she said with a smile. “It was… kind of hot.”

He grinned at her, all shark teeth. “Maybe I’ll invest in some fuzzy ones, then.”

She blushed, pulling on her blouse. “Y-yeah right! I have to get back to work!”

X X X

I feel like this was a really really weird lemon. It was like—I don’t know, I feel like it was just strange. Maybe it was the strawberries. Maybe it was the chopsticks, which is what gaze me this entire idea. (I’ll never be able to look at them the same way again…) Or maybe I’m just nuts.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Review!


	5. The Bet

Summary: The punishment for a bet goes a little too far.

X X X

It all started with the bet that Liz and Patty had spent all night concocting, an hour the next day getting Death the Kid to agree to it, and then put it into action on their unsuspecting high-achieving friend, Maka Albarn. It was perfect, it was clever, and even if it went wrong, it would still be interesting to see how things turned out.

“Hey Maka,” Liz said conversationally. Patty and Kid were standing just behind her, casual, composed. “I bet we can collect more souls than you by the end of the week.”

Maka grinned at her friend. “You’re on!” she said immediately.

Soul, her Death Scythe, was off to her left, looking cool, and Maka told him about the bet. He grinned, all shark teeth and always ready for a new challenge. He was eager to test his new skills and what better way than to go up in competition against a Grim Reaper. It promised to be close at the very least. Kid was a Grim Reaper, but he was still young and not nearly as powerful as his father. Maka had managed to create a Death Scythe and, when resonating with Soul, was stronger than the average meister. 

And so, the bet was on and the week began. 

It was a hellish week. Both groups working their tails off to collect the most kishin-egg souls while still tackling school, Spartoi missions, and regular day to day life. By the time the week was up, everyone was ready for the bet to come to its conclusions. And the final tally was…

Kid’s trio bagged eighty-eight souls. (“The perfect even and symmetrical number,” Kid said smugly.)

Maka and Soul collected eighty-seven. (Something Kid spent several minutes freaking out over. “Seven! Take it back! Get one more soul, damn it!”)

“No way,” Maka breathed out. She had lost. She—Maka Albarn—creator of a Death Scythe and one of the lead members of Spartoi had failed. She almost couldn’t believe it, but it was only a bet. The world as she knew it wasn’t going to stop turning. At least it wouldn’t yet… not until Liz and Patty gleefully told her what she had to do because she lost. 

Since Kid’s part in the evil plan was over, he asked Soul to hang out for a while and the two boys left. 

Maka was alone with Liz and Patty. 

“Come back to our place, Maka,” Liz said with a smirk. “We have to show you your punishment.”

Maka sighed, thinking it would be something embarrassing like showing up to school in her underwear or even taking a lame mission that no one wanted or as horrible as hanging out with her father for a day. But, never in a million years had she expected… this!

Cheekily, Liz dangled the bright pink vibrator in front of her friend’s stricken face.

“Punishment!” Patty said cheerfully, laughing loudly.

Maka was shocked, appalled, horrified. “W-what do you expect me to do with that, Liz?”

Liz grinned. “I expect you to wear it all day tomorrow while we’re training.”

“W-wear it?”

She nodded. “Just put it inside and put on panties. It’ll stay put… unless you get too sloppy wet, Maka.”

The younger girl’s face flamed. “Liz! I can’t—”

“You lost, fair and square,” Liz interrupted.

“But if I had known this—”

“You would have taken the bet anyway. You just would have tried harder,” Liz explained and pressed the vibrator into Maka’s hands. “You lost, deal with it.” She smiled at Maka. “Remember, all day tomorrow. Oh, and we’ll have the controls for it.” She showed Maka the small remote and Maka’s cheek flamed bright beet-red.

“But—”

“See you tomorrow, Maka!”

Maka stared at the vibrator in her hands, blushed, and then hurried home since she didn’t have a place to hide it. Well, she did have one place, but she wasn’t even going to think about going there. Thankfully, she got home before Soul and had time to hide the sex toy in her bedroom. Then, she ducked into the shower and had almost relaxed by the time her partner came home.

“So what do we have to do since we lost the bet?” Soul asked her, his hands in his pockets.

“Nothing,” Maka told him. “I’m beat. I’m going to bed.” And with that, she scurried off to her room without dinner or anything.

“Weird,” Soul said and made himself a sandwich. He ate in front of the television, took a long shower, streaked to his room since he had forgotten to grab pajamas, and snuggled deep in his comfy bed. The week had been stressful. If only he knew how stressful tomorrow was going to be, then he might have decided never to get out of bed again.

…

Maka got up twenty minutes early the next day and stared at the bright pink vibrator for a full fifteen, blushing. She was wearing her Spartoi uniform, but her leggings were waiting on the bed until she figured out what to do about the vibrator. Well, she’d just have to bite the bullet and push it up there. It wasn’t like she was completely virginal. She had experimented with her fingers and a few household objects and she used tampons.

She lay down on her bed and played with herself just enough to become wet. Then, biting her lip with nervous embarrassment, she slipped the thick girth of the vibrator into herself. It filled her to the brim and the little nub on it pressed against her clit. She pulled on her panties and then her leggings and tried to get used to the feeling of the vibrator inside of her. Well, at least it wasn’t on… yet…

Soul knocked on her door. “Maka, are you up? Breakfast is ready and we’re going to be late. If we’re not there at exactly eight, Kid’s going to pop a blood vessel,” he called.

“I know. I’m coming!” Maka said and opened the door.

Soul offered her his usual early-morning lazy smile and moseyed into the kitchen for some breakfast. Since they didn’t want Kid to pop a blood vessel, they each had a bowl of cereal and headed to the practice grounds of the Academy. Per usual, their group was going to practice group resonance and spar with each other. Usually, Maka enjoyed their sparring matches, but now she was worried. What if she got aroused by the vibrator? What if her friends could all feel it in her soul’s wavelength?

“Best not to worry about it,” she said out loud.

“Best not to worry about what?” Soul asked.

“Nothing. I heard it was going to rain later today, but it looks pretty clear.”

He shook his head at her. “Come on, let’s go.”

Soul started up his orange motorcycle and swung his leg over it, revving the engine. Maka slipped on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning close to keep her face out of the wind. Soul’s body was warm and strong and he smelled delicious. Then, he revved the engine and the vibrations went right into the fake cock   
pushed inside her and she nearly cried out in pleasure. 

She was never going to make it through the day! She was doomed! She was dead! She was… orgasmic…

Soul and Maka arrived at the training grounds first. Maka gratefully got off the bike and surreptitiously adjusted her soaked panties. Kid, Liz, and Patty arrived precisely at eight. The two sisters grinned mischievously at Maka and she resisted the urge to flip them off. Tsubaki and BlackStar arrived at seven after eight (which Kid spent two minutes freaking out over). So at about eight-ten, give or take a few minutes, they started training.

Maka was able to completely forget about the vibrator as she fought against BlackStar in hand to hand combat. She was also fairly certain that Soul couldn’t sense her arousal through her soul and if he couldn’t, there was no way the others could. She was relieved about that at least.

She managed to push BlackStar back and leaped into the air, about to strike the finishing blow on him when a hot vibration spread through her entire vagina and womb. She glanced at Liz, stricken, and saw the small remote in the girl’s hand. 

She had turned it on!

Maka’s blow was thrown off wildly. BlackStar blasted her with his wavelength and Soul went flying from her hands to clatter on the ground several feet away. Maka crashed into the ground, one hand clutching her stomach where BlackStar had blasted her and the other going between her legs. A small pitiful whine escaped her.

“Maka!” Soul shouted and darted to her side, his strong arms hoisting her up. “Jeez, BlackStar, you didn’t have to blast her like that.”

“BlackStar,” Tsubaki said sternly, her voice garbled by her weapon form.

“I didn’t!” the loud youth protested. “I hardly used my wavelength at all. Maybe she’s hurt?”

Tsubaki materialized next to her meister and crouched beside Maka and Soul. “Are you okay, Maka? Do you have cramps or something?”

Maka leaned against Soul, breathing hard. “No, I’m okay,” she said. “It’s just…”

Liz turned up the vibration.

Maka cried out sharply, pressing her hands to her lower stomach. “I have to.. I have to…”

“Soul, take her to the nurse’s office,” Tsubaki said and helped pull Maka to her feet. 

Soul gathered her up against his side, one arm around her waist and the other supporting her arm over his shoulders. Her body felt hot, feverish, and she was trembling. Her soul’s wavelength was usually calm and focused, but it was frenetic now, jumping wildly all over the place. 

“You guys can keep on without us,” Soul told the others and hurried off with Maka.

Tsubaki stared after them. “I hope Maka will be okay.”

“She’s fine,” Liz said and leaned to whisper in Tsubaki’s ear about the bet and the punishment.

“You did that to her?” Tsubaki gasped. “I can’t believe it!”

Liz shrugged. “Soul and Maka needed a kick in the ass. Everyone knows they’re in love except them. And do you really think Maka’s going to let Soul take her to the nurse in this condition?”

“That is…” Tsubaki whispered, “diabolical.” 

“Isn’t it?” Liz said cheekily. “Let’s keep on training.”

…

Soul continued to cradle Maka against his side, practically carrying her to the nurse’s office. They were just passing the bathrooms when Maka dug in her heels and clutched his shirt to keep from falling. God, her legs felt like they were made out of rubber.

“Soul, I don’t need to go to the nurse’s office,” she protested.

“But—”

She glanced up and down the hallway, deemed the coast clear, and then yanked him into the girl’s bathroom. She closed and locked the door and then slid to her knees on the floor, breathing deeply. “This has gone far enough,” she panted.

“Maka, what is going on?” Soul asked her.

She labored to her feet and toed off her boots. “It was the stupid bet.”

“I thought you said—”

“I lied,” she snapped and began to peel off her leggings.

“What are you doing, Maka? Did you hit your head?”

She tossed her leggings with her shoes. “I’m sure this is what Liz originally intended.”

Soul eyed her, backing up. “What?”

She pulled down her panties and a madly-vibrating dildo fell out with a wet squelch. Soul leaped back, shocked, and all the blood immediately going to his groin at the erotic sight of his meister’s dripping pussy. Her folds were flushed pink and glistening with moisture and Soul imagined he could smell her arousal even across the bathroom.

“Soul,” Maka whispered and licked her lips. “I’m… I’m… I need—”

“You’re not serious,” he breathed.

She nodded and pulled her shirt over her head. “You have to… I’m going to melt. Please, Soul.” Naked, she walked towards him, swinging her hips. She pressed against him and he couldn’t help his arms going around her body and gently touching her flushed skin.

“Maka…”

“Fuck me, Soul.”

He couldn’t deny her anything.

Hard and fast, her turned her around and bent her over the sink. She yelped at the cold porcelain touched her breasts, but her discomfort didn’t last long. Soul fumbled at his belt and pants, they hit the floor with a clatter, and then wrapped his hands under her hipbones. He lifted her onto her toes.

“Can you hold this position?” he whispered, kissing the back of her neck.

She nodded. “Just… fuck me!”

Without further ado, he slammed into her to the hilt.

She screamed his name, her voice echoing against the bathroom walls. Soul put his hand over her lips, his fingers sliding into her open mouth. She sucked and licked his fingers, her tongue hot and strong. He wondered what it would be like to have her take his dick into her mouth. But it was hard enough to survive the hot clenching soaking heat of her pussy for more than sixty seconds. Grunting, Soul slammed into her hard. Her hips knocked into the rim of the sink loudly and he hoisted her up a little higher. 

She moaned loudly and then spotted her reflection in the mirror over the sink. Behind her was Soul, his head thrown back, his blood-colored eyes glazed. Small sounds of pleasure were escaping him and the feeling of his cock buried deep inside her was so much better than the vibrator. And the vibrator had been pretty good. Soul pulled her hips back, slamming in hard enough to bruise her inside. She reached between her legs, fingering her clit, and it only took a little before she went roaring into her orgasm.

Soul suddenly pulled out of her and she felt something hot splattering on her back. His cum… She slid to her knees on the cold floor of the bathroom and gasped for breath. Soul sat down heavily beside her, his dick rather unattractive now that it was softening. (Not that her own genitals looked very pretty all soaked and flushed as they were.) Soul rested his forehead on her shoulder and gently kissed her hot flushed skin.

“I think,” Maka panted out. “Liz planned all of this to a T.”

Soul smiled against her skin. “I was in on it too, Maka,” he confessed.

She whirled around, her eyes wide. “What?”

He suddenly had a sinking feeling. “Just… Liz ran it by me before she…”

“MAKA CHOP!”

X X X

Jeez, Soul, you just never learn. And you never will either, will you? You don’t ever tell Maka the truth (like that she has small breasts or that she’s a bookworm). Maka doesn’t appreciate the truth. Just keep it to yourself! He’s lucky he’s so cute because he’s pretty slow, right?

Questions, comments, concerns?


	6. Sunset in the Sands

For meghanmoo.

Inspired by my story, “Sunset in the Sands.” A less romantic twist on Maka’s secret admirer. (You do not need to read it to understand this one-shot, but if you’d like to, that’s cool to!)

Summary: What if Soul wasn’t the one who sent her the roses and letters…?

X X X

When the first rose and letter came, Maka was walking on Cloud Nine. Soul looked nervously up at her, worried that she was going to come crashing down to earth and break herself into pieces. But, nothing bad happened. Over the course of the week before Prom, Maka got five roses and five letters.

‘Will you go to Prom with me?’

‘Love, Secret Admirer.’

‘If you accept, I’ll pick you up in a black limo at six for the dance.’

Soul was a little concerned, but Maka was just happy—she practically danced the whole day away while she got ready. What if this admirer was a psycho? What if it was a chick? What if it was a psycho chick? He watched his partner, nervously, closely. He didn’t understand why he was so concerned. DWMA wasn’t a school full of bad kids but… he just couldn’t shake his worry.

… 

Saturday night, Soul and Maka were both getting ready for the dance. Soul adjusted his tie in the mirror, trying to pretend his fingers weren’t shaking with the force of his heartbeat. He had no idea why he was so nervous. It wasn’t as if he was Maka’s secret admirer who had to be concerned with being turned down once Maka finally met him. He had nothing to worry about, but…

“Soul,” Maka called, her voice sing-song. “Can you zip me?”

He shouted, “Yeah,” and made his way through their shared apartment. He knocked on her bedroom door lightly and entered without waiting. 

His partner was so beautiful. Her honey-blonde hair was hanging around her face in loose curls rather than her usual girlish pigtails. Her dress was a perfect emerald-green to match her eyes and was the perfect style for her thin flat body. She looked feminine, lovely, older, and perfect. Soul suddenly wished she didn’t have a secret admirer taking her to Prom. He wished that they were going together—even if it was just as friends.

“Soul, are you going to zip me up or just stand there staring?” she asked him, fixing a wild curl on the side of her head in the mirror. She was watching him in the reflection, smiling softly. “Do I look pretty?”

He crossed the room to stand beside her, his knuckles lightly brushing her naked back as he pulled up the zipper of her dress. “No,” he said plainly.

Maka narrowed her eyes. “Soul—!”

He pressed a light kiss to her cheek, friendly, careful. “You look beautiful,” he said instead.

She blushed both from the kiss and the compliment. “T-thanks,” she said. “You’re not half-bad yourself.”

He grinned toothily at her. 

Then, from outside the house, they heard the honk of a horn. Soul’s back went up—what kind of jerk didn’t walk up to the door to pick a girl up for a date? But Maka didn’t seem to care whether it was polite or not. With a girlish shriek that hurt his eardrums, she vaulted out of her bedroom. She forgot her purse, cell phone, and shoes in her haste so Soul had to gather them up and follow her with a heavy sigh. By the time he made it to the front door, Maka had already slipped into the limo and it was pulling away.

Soul’s heart lurched with strange fear.

He hadn’t even gotten a look at this secret admirer of Maka’s. What if something happened to her? He would have nothing to tell the police! He told himself to calm down. She had her cell phone in her purse and it wasn’t like he didn’t know where they were going. (They were going to Prom after all.) He turned back towards the house and realized he had Maka’s phone, purse, and shoes in his hands. He cursed loudly, grabbed his motorcycle keys off the sideboard and raced out after the limo.

His heart was still pounding. 

He had a bad feeling about all this.

…

Maka’s secret admirer proved to be a student she didn’t know. For a moment, he seemed to be hiding his face behind a giant bouquet of roses. His body was very tall, taller than Soul, and rather thin like a scarecrow. From what Maka could see, he was very pale and smelled a little stale even over the scent of his cologne. His hands were rough and callused with large knuckles and a few scars at his wrists, not from suicide attempts though—more like… bracelets?

“Um, hi,” Maka said to the bouquet of roses since she couldn’t see his face.

“Hi,” he said and his voice was thin and timid, like a child’s. “I was afraid you’d say no.”

Maka smiled softly. How cute—he was insecure. “The cards and roses were so romantic. I loved them,” she said, trying to make him feel a little more confident.

The bouquet lowered a little and Maka stared at his wide forehead and beady bright black eyes. Something about this guy reminded her of an animal, a timid little animal, and she found herself wanting to reach out and hug him just to make him feel better.

“Really?” he asked.

She nodded. “They’re wonderful. You know a lot about girls.”

Vigorously, he nodded and then said something strange. “I’ve been watching you a long time, waiting for the right moment, praying you’d say yes.”

Maybe it wasn’t that strange, Maka decided. He really was a secret admirer. 

He suddenly seemed to realize that he was still clutching the roses and hurriedly handed them to her, shoving them in her face so she couldn’t see him. “These are for you,” he said, his voice small and trembling. “I hope you like them.”

Maka accepted the flowers, her hands brushing over his. His skin was like ice, rough and dry, crackly like old parchment. “Thank you,” she said, inhaling the fragrance. “They’re beautiful.”

She peeked over the flowers to catch a glimpse of her admirer’s whole face. He was very small and thin as she had glimpsed around the bouquet of roses, his bright black eyes downturned, and his face was unbelievably pink. She had no idea someone could blush so brightly. His hair was deep black, peppered with strands of white though he was not old in the least, and his hair flopped across his forehead messily. She saw now that his suit was rather bad-fitting, loose, and he seemed to be wearing two shirts underneath his suit jacket. 

“Are you cold?” she asked.

He shook his head. 

“Well, you’re wearing layers,” she said. “It’ll be hot at Prom.”

He nodded.

Maka glanced out the window and suddenly realized they weren’t headed towards the academy. In fact, they seemed to be going in the opposite direction. They were headed out of the city. Maka’s heart suddenly began to hammer, pounding against her ribs. 

“Um, where are we going?” she asked.

Her date turned towards her and smiled broadly. His face split from ear to ear in a wide frightening grin and his mouth was full of big square teeth. “I thought we’d get a quick bite first,” he growled out.

Maka fumbled for her purse, for her phone, for a sharp stiletto heel, but she had nothing. She had left them all at home in her hurry to leave and meet her secret admirer. Now, she had nothing—nothing at all. Desperately, she whispered, “Help…” 

The partition was closed tightly. The driver of the limo would never know she needed help, even if she screamed.

He grinned broader, like a monster, and that mouth came towards her face. His hot breath touched her neck and goose bumps broke out all over her body. She suddenly wished her wardrobe for the night had consisted of body armor instead of a thin lacy dress. What was going to happen to her now?! When he grabbed her, shoving her down on the seat, that mouth open wide as if to devour her, she screamed for the only person she could think of.

“Soul!”

…

Soul had been following the limo at a polite distance on his motorcycle, expecting the limo to stop at the school in a few minutes, but—something was wrong. The limo wasn’t headed for the school. It was headed out of town, towards the vast desert. That bad feeling in his chest came back full-force, his heart jack-hammering brutally against his ribs. He revved the engine, the bike surging forward underneath him, streaking after the limo and swiftly closing the gap.

He pulled abreast of the limo, peeking in the windows. For a moment, he didn’t see anything and his heart dropped. Was Maka banging this secret admirer of hers already? Then, her hand slapped against the glass of the window, desperately clawing at it, and he heard her muted scream from within the limo. His heart lurched painfully and he increased his speed. Within seconds, he pulled up in front of the limo and skidded sideways so that he was in front of it.

The limo driver stared at him, eyes bugging out, and he slammed on the brakes. He jumped out of the limo, shouting, “Are you crazy, kid?”

Soul ignored him, darting around to the rear door and yanking it open. Maka’s screams split the dark twilight evening. Her admirer was on top of her, large hands tearing at her dress, and he had the largest monstrous mouth Soul had ever seen. For a moment, he could only stare—stunned and shocked. 

The limo driver quickly came around. “What the hell?”

Maka screamed again, reaching desperately out. She saw the limo driver first and then Soul. She screamed his name, reaching out desperately.

Soul lurched into action, his skin prickling with weapon blood. He desperately wanted to transform and rip with sucker to shreds, but he didn’t. First and foremost, he was concerned for Maka. He grabbed her hand, yanking her out from under her assailant and pulling her flush against his chest. The admirer was holding Maka’s panties in his hand and he looked up, mouth opening to shout at Soul. Soul didn’t give him a chance. Swiftly, he punched the guy in the face.

It wasn’t even worth his weapon blood.

The loser collapsed in a heap, nose bleeding.

Stunned, the driver just stared at the scene before him—a sobbing girl in a torn and tattered Prom dress, this boy with a giant mouth, a boy on a motorcycle who had stopped him just to save this girl. “What the hell?” he said again, looking between the three of them.

“Report this,” Soul snapped at the driver. 

Then, cradling Maka, he quickly turned her away from the stranger in the limo. He shrugged out of his suit jacket, still holding her, and wrapped her in the jacket. He helped her onto the back of his motorcycle, wishing he had a better vehicle for a girl with no panties on under her dress, but he wasn’t about to go back for her undies. She clung to him tightly as he revved the bike and rocketed away from the limo stopped into the middle of the road on the edge of the desert.

…

He brought his partner home. If she was still feeling up to Prom, they could go later but… she had sobbed into his back the entire way home. He didn’t think she was ready for Prom. She probably wanted a hot bath, some chocolate ice cream, and a fluffy pillow. He could give her all those things and more.

After he parked, he lifted her off the back of the bike and held her tightly in his arms, carrying her into the apartment. Even after he tried to set her down on the couch, she wouldn’t let go of him. She had her arms wrapped around his neck, clutching him desperately, still crying helplessly. 

“Maka,” he whispered. “Let go. You’re home. You’re safe.”

She didn’t let go, her soft lips quivering against the side of his throat.

“Maka,” he murmured. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I… I can’t. Please, stay with me.”

Soul sat down on the couch, holding her in his lap. “Talk to me,” he murmured.

She shivered. “He… he… he was going to rape me.”

Soul shushed her, stroking her back. 

“If you hadn’t come… he would have—” She started to hyperventilate.

“Maka, breathe. You’re safe. You’re okay.”

“I… I need a bath,” she whispered.

“Alright,” he said and lifted her up, carrying her into the bathroom. 

Soul tried to set her down, but she refused to release him. Carefully, he bent over and started the water, adjusting the temperature and dropping the plug into the drain. Then, he put the lid down on the toilet and sat down with her still cradled in his lap while the tub filled slowly. 

Maka collected herself for the most part while the tub filled. By the time it was ready, she had scraped herself off of Soul’s chest and had dried her eyes. Hastily, she squeezed her knees together, realizing her panties were gone and she was desperately straddling Soul’s lap.

“The water’s ready,” he said gently. 

“Will you stay with me?” she asked.

“Are you sure?” he murmured.

She nodded. “Please.” Then, as if in another world, she turned her back to him and said softly, “Unzip me?”

“Maka—”

“Please, unzip me.”

He did, his fingers shaking lightly. 

The dress slid down the contours of her body and pooled at her feet. She was completely naked before him, goose bumps rising on her pale skin. She wrapped her hands over her breasts, squeezing her thighs together, and faced him. “Will you get in with me?”

“Are you serious?” he choked out.

She nodded.

He cautiously peeled off his dress shirt and slacks, standing there in his boxers. Maka reached out and embraced him tightly, naked chest to chest. Gently, she tugged him towards the tub and pushed on his chest until he sank down into the water She crawled into his lap, snuggling against his chest, her arms wrapped tightly around him. Soul couldn’t find a place to put his hands. Here she was—the love of his life, snuggled naked and vulnerable in his lap—and he was worried that he might want to do something she wasn’t ready for. He tried to ignore it.

“Soul,” she whispered suddenly.

“What?” he asked, his voice strained.

She pressed her thigh down against his growing erection.

He jolted, his mouth disengaging helplessly as he tried to explain. He babbled like a cretin. 

Then, Maka gently pressed her lips to his—the kiss was as sudden and wonderful as a sun shower or an orgasm. He gasped her name, arms wrapping tightly around her small body. Her hands ran down his naked chest and over his erection beneath his boxers. He groaned, hips bucking helplessly into her hand. Suddenly, he realized what was happening and broke apart.

“Wait, Maka!” he gasped.

“Please,” she whispered. “I want this…”

And how could he ever deny her anything?

He lifted her chin and kissed her deeply, his tongue probing the seam of her lips. She welcomed him inside, moaning softly as his hot tongue slipped against hers. His hands cupped her tiny breasts, kneading them gently, and then ran down her back to cup her ass. She spread her legs, straddling him, and worked his erection through the slit in his boxers. She made a soft sound of surprise and tenderly began to stroke him, exploring his velvet-soft skin.

He groaned and his fingers slipped between her legs. The water made it hard to tell just how wet she was, but she was slick and slippery and her insides were as hot as coals. The thought of slipping inside her nearly made him cum on the spot. He panted and pushed one finger inside her. She arched her back, small breasts quivering and nipples standing out. She moaned softly, rocking her hips against his hand and squeezing his member tightly.

Suddenly, she shifted her body forward and the tip of his cock touched her heated entrance. She lowered herself with a groan, limbs quivering as he stretched and filled her to the brim. She impaled herself deeply, rotating her hips in a tight circle and feeling him stir her insides. He had never felt anything so wonderful as the tightness and heat, her muscles clenching around him, her body shifting and rocking. She leaned down to kiss him.

Soul wrapped her tightly in his arms, lifting her a few inches so he could thrust up into her. The water in the tub sloshed loudly, Maka’s voice bounced off the walls, and his own quick breaths were so loud in the bathroom. He felt so lost, completely wrapped up, in the pleasure they shared.

“Touch me,” Maka panted, “right here.” And then she guided his fingers to her clit.

He stroked her, his fingers deft and wonderful. There was something so different, so much more arousing, about having someone else touching her. Her heart was pounding, so hot, so hard, and despite what had just happened, she was still happy and comfortable with Soul. She realized it then, as her orgasm rocked through her blood and Soul released inside her with a cry, that she loved him. God she loved him like she loved no one else. 

She trusted Soul. She knew he’d be there for her forever. He’d save her and protect her. He’d love her—he’d sacrifice for her.

She pressed her lips to the top of his scar, prying a shudder from him. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her flushed against his naked chest, still sheathed and softening inside her. She lay against him, breathing hard, shivering even in the hot water. Then, she leaned back, cupped his face, and kissed him passionately. When they broke apart, Soul’s eyes were glowing like lanterns—bright and as red as a beating heart.

“Maka?” he asked.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He smiled softly. “I’ll always be here for yo. You’ll always have me.”

She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but she couldn’t. It was too soon, too raw, too fresh. Instead, she snuggled deep into his embrace and kissed the side of his throat gently. He hugged her close, kissing her in return and she knew he knew what she meant.

X X X

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	7. Valentine's Day

For girlmongo3 and May-Mei.

(It has Valentine’s Day in it, right? I was close enough. This is what happens when you multitask, watching a horror movie and trying to write something romantic. It comes out like this… So, inspiration was—the movie, My Bloody Valentine, and the Linkin Park song, Valentine’s Day.)

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day, but Maka is alone… she has been for three years. (Warning: mild sort of character death.)

X X X

It was chilly for February. A cool crackling wind full of paper swept down at her from between the tall buildings of Death City. The sky was gun-metal grey, threatening one late final snowstorm before winter final relinquished its hold and made way for spring. Shivering, Maka hoped it wouldn’t snow. This holiday was hard enough to get through without the weather turning ugly, cruel, and dark. Tears burned cold in the corners of Maka’s eyes as she looked at the beautiful pink, red, and white hearts that decorated the streets. 

Valentine’s Day in Death City…

Most people forgot about the tragedy that had taken place three years ago…

The massacre that had claimed her lover’s, Soul Evans, life…

A man who had been recently divorced by his wife lost his mind, slaughtered all the people in a music café with a pickaxe, and then took his own life. Soul was a pianist and he had been performing the day that man came into the shop. Since Soul was a good-natured and protective person, his body had been among the most butchered because he had been trying to protect the other patrons in the café that day. Maka had never even gotten to say goodbye to his face.

His funeral had been a closed casket… 

Since most of his face was gone…

Pickaxes…

She clamped her teeth down hard on her lower lip, biting back a ragged cry. The cold February breeze whipped through her, tearing at her dark woolen pea coat. Valentine’s Day… It was both a day for lovers, which Maka no longer had, and a day for mourning Soul’s death. She missed him so much, every single day of her remaining life, but it was especially hard on Valentine’s Day. It made her heartbreakingly aware that Soul was dead, that he would never play piano again, that he would never kiss her again, that they would never make love again.

As she always did, Maka stopped at the florist and bought a bouquet of blood-red roses. 

“For your sweetheart?” the florist asked. Her expression was mixed—as if she wasn’t happy to be working on a holiday, but happy to see all the happy young couples coming in buying flowers.

Maka accepted the paper-wrapped bouquet, cradling it to her chest as she took out her wallet. “Yeah,” she confessed and it wasn’t quite a lie. They were for her sweetheart. Maka was just leaving out the fact that her lover was dead and had been for three long lonely Valentine’s Days now.

“I’m sure they’ll love them. Red roses mean eternal love, passion, and courage,” the female florist continued.

Maka nodded, only half-listening. 

Black roses—death would have been more suited for Soul’s grave, couple with a single red rose to say, ‘I love you.’ That was the arrangement Maka usually placed on Soul’s grave. But on Valentine’s Day, she bestowed only beautiful red roses upon his deathbed.

“Here’s your change. Have a Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Thanks,” Maka murmured and left the shop. 

The cold wind whipped at her painfully, stabbing needles of ice into her heart. She walked silently down the street, holding the roses within the safety of her heavy jacket to protect them from the wind. Finally, she reached the cemetery where all the loved ones lost lay in eternal slumber. She walked among the garden of stone, passing the other bouquets of flowers that had been lovingly placed on the graves. It seemed Valentine’s Day was not sad only for Maka. Indeed twenty-two other people had been slaughtered the same day as Soul. Now, their lovers were alone on this dark day as well.

She made her way to Soul’s grave and knelt on the fresh grass. The cold from the earth began to seep into her knees through her jeans, making her shiver. She fit the roses into the iron vase at the base of his headstone and fluffed their petals to perfection. The wind howled, whipping her pale hair into her face in stinging blows. She pulled up her hood, whispering, but her voice was stolen by the same wind.

“Hey Soul,” she whispered. “I still love you. I still think about you. I still miss you.” Her voice cracked with tears. “I do…”

Louder and louder, the wind screamed at her. It shoved and pushed her urgently, but she remained at the grave.

“And I…” she sobbed, wiping her eyes. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Soul.”

Then, she leaned forward against the wind and pressed her lips to the cold stone. Something surged through her—something blazing hot in contrast to the icy air. With a soft cry, Maka flung herself away from the headstone and went sprawling on the cold ground. Her head knocked against the statue of an angel, sending an explosion of bright stars dancing across her vision. Whimpering, she rolled over and clutched the back of her head where the blow had landed. Her cold lips tingled, her vision clouded, her heart thundered.

Maka crawled onto her hands and knees, stumbling away from Soul’s grave. The wind lashed and tore at her, carrying the scent of cold damp snow and lingering roses. She whimpered, tears burning in her eyes as she struggled away from her lover’s grave on Valentine’s Day. 

The deserted graveyard was silent and empty after Maka’s hurried departure. The wind whistled through the headstones, thrashed through the branches of the tall trees, teased the roses left on graves, and threatened snow. The world was washed out and cold, still and silent, like death itself. Then, within the deserted graveyard, there was movement but it was not the tremble of tombstones or the shifting of earth. Nothing rose back to unnatural life. Everything was quiet save the heartless wind howling and yet… something stirred.

…

With a sharp cry, Maka flung herself inside the small house she used to share with Soul. Now, the house was too large for her alone, but she couldn’t bear to leave it. It held the last memories, the last traces of Soul’s beautiful existence. Gasping, Maka stripped off her coat and boots, throwing both into the bottom of the coat closet. She stumbled into the bathroom, ran hot water into the sink, and scrubbed her face hard. Then, she bent low over the sink, chest heaving, until she managed to catch her breath.

Reaching for the hand towel, she lifted her face and stared at herself in the mirror. Behind her, there was something… She tried to look directly at it, but the harder she tried, the more it seemed to blur and shift. Realizing she was still crying, she wiped her eyes and the shape came into focus.

Soul smiled. “Hi Maka.”

She whirled around, a scream in her throat, but the bathroom was empty. She was alone on Valentine’s Day, just like she had been for the past three years. Panting, gasping for breath, her lungs starved, Maka stumbled from the bathroom and looked around the apartment. It was deserted except for her, not even a cat or a goldfish to make it more human. 

Soul was not there.

Sighing hard, Maka leaned against the wall, still clutching the hand towel from the bathroom. She slumped down and wrapped her arms around her long legs, pulling them tight against her chest. Her ash-blonde hair stuck to her damp cheeks as she sobbed heartbrokenly. Must her mind tease her so?

“Maka,” Soul whispered, “Don’t cry.”

Something touched her cheek, brushing the sodden hair back behind her ear.

Maka jerked her head up, but the hallway was empty. Soul was not there. She was alone, just like she had been since that man took a pickaxe to her beautiful lover and twenty-two other innocent souls. She sobbed, bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, and squeezed her eyes shut. She begged for the hallucinations to stop—to stop tormenting her with images of Soul’s face and Soul’s voice.

“Don’t cry, baby,” he whispered again. “I’m here.”

Maka didn’t open her eyes. ‘This is just a dream,’ she told herself.

“It’s not…”

Something soft pressed to her mouth—a kiss. That was something she hadn’t felt in so long. Ever since Soul’s kisses, she had never been able to kiss another. In pleasure, surprise, and shock, her mouth opened with a gasp. The kiss deepened, tasting her. Her arms went up, circling the air where shoulders should have been. For a moment, she felt something there, something in her arms. Then, with a jolt, her hands passed through empty space.

No one was there.

Not Soul.

No one.

She wiped her wet eyes with the towel, staggered to her feet, and made her way slowly down the hallway, hesitating at her bedroom door. She used to share a room with Soul, but had been unable to sleep there after his death. For three years, she had changed the sheets and made the bed, but never slept there. Now, she always slept in the spare bedroom.

But, she hesitated, her eyes going further down the hallway to the room she and Soul used to share. The door was swinging slowly open, creaking on unused hinges. Maka’s breath caught in her chest, her heart choking her painfully. The door still, hanging half-open. It would be easy to grab the knob and slam it closed again, but as Maka’s hand rested on the knob, she found herself unable to. Instead, she pushed the door open the rest of the way. 

“Soul?”

The room was empty, the bed was neatly made, the curtains were pulled.

Nothing was out of place. It was just as Maka left it the day before.

“Soul?” she breathed out.

No one answered, not even the wind.

With a cry, Maka flew into the room and hurled herself down on the bed. The sheets smelled of soap and nothing else, not of love, not of Soul’s skin. Burying her face in the pillow that used to be Soul’s, she began to cry. They were great gasping sobs that ached deep in her throat and chest. She finally broke down and cried a river, letting all her pent-up sorrow and pain just flow out. She cried for a long time, for an eternity. Then, she felt it.

Someone was gently stroking her pale hair.

For a moment, she just enjoyed it. Then, she slowly sat up, keeping her eyes closed, and whispered, “Soul?”

“Yes?” he answered.

“Are you really here?” 

Silence answered her.

Maka opened her eyes on an empty room and sniffled. “I guess that answers that,” she choked out.

Something invisible pressed a kiss to her lips silently.

With a gasp, she embraced the empty air. “Soul?”

“Sometimes,” his voice whispered against the shell of her ear. “Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it isn’t there.”

Brokenly, she sobbed and tried to cling to this vestige of him, but everything she grasped at was nothing more than empty air, an empty bed, and empty home, and an empty broken heart. Silently, she sat on the bed, hands in her lap, waiting—waiting for something…

There was a light tug on her blouse, the buttons quivering.

Swiftly, and not quite knowing why, Maka unfasten the buttons, shrugged off the silken blouse, and unhook her bra. That too, fell from her shoulders easily. Naked from the waist up, she continued sitting on the bed, waiting. This time, she half-expected it when it came again.

A light tug on her skirt, the zipper clattering.

She stripped out of her skirt and stockings, peeling off her socks and leaving her panties for last. They were sexy panties, something she had bought just for Soul as a present that Valentine’s Day when he had been killed. She had wanted to surprise him, but never got to… Now, she wore them each Valentine’s Day… just for him.

“Pretty…” a voice purred.

Maka’s skin prickled with goose bumps.

Slowly, she lay back against the pillows of the bed, naked save her lovely lace panties. She ran her hands over her chest, gently cupping her small breasts and palming over her nipples. She pretended Soul was touching her. For a long moment, all she felt was her own warm hands. Then, light and cool, she felt something new.

A strange sensation spread across her naked chest. Something light and soft, phantom, was ghosting across her chest as lightly as a fingertip. It swirled across her nipples, circled her breasts, teased down her flat stomach, and dipped into her navel. She arched into the touch, moaning softly. It had been three years since she had felt something other than her own touch and it felt amazing—even if she didn’t know quite what it was.

The touch ran over her panties. Maka became aware of just how wet she was. She was drenched, hot and dripping at her core. She lifted on leg and arched her back to get her butt of the mattress. Then, she peeled down her soaked pretty panties and tossed them aside. Completely nude, she opened her arms to the empty room, welcoming something into her embrace.

For a moment, her arms remained empty and the touch had stopped. She had nearly giving up hope and told herself it was just her imagination when she felt something press down against the length of her body. A firm invisible body nestled in her arms, pressing against her chest as cool and perfect as water. Carefully, she embraced the strange shape, but her arms slid through. She could feel it, but she could not touch it. 

Her eyes filled with small tears. How cruel… if she could only…

The touch cupped her throbbing heated sex and she moaned, jolting in wonder. She was so drenched and eager that the phantom lover didn’t spend time preparing her. A soft pressure urged her legs apart, leaning room for narrow hips to fit between. Then, Maka felt something press and fill her. She moaned, throwing her head back against the pillows.

“S-Soul,” she gasped.

Within her, the cool presence began to thrust and move. It was nothing like Maka had ever felt before. There was no body for her to cling to, no lover for her to hold, no lips to kiss. There was only cool touches all over her heated skin, that cool length filling her and moving, the occasional puff of cool breath on her mouth. 

She screamed Soul’s name in pleasure, trying to anchor herself to the world. It was too hard. She hadn’t been touched in so long and now, this was heaven. She gripped the headboard and dug her heels into the bed, arching up against her ghostly lover. The pace grew hard, heating up to match her body until she truly felt Soul inside her. 

If she closed her eyes, she could still see his beautiful face.

Gasping, Maka flung her head back. The cool phantom touch pressed to her clit, swirling hard and fast, just as Soul used to touch her. Immediately, memories surged through Maka’s heated blood. Her orgasm rocked her hard, sending Soul’s name flying from her lips. Panting, she collapsed against the mattress, trying to catch herself.

Someone gently stroked the hair back from her face, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and then…

Maka felt completely alone in the room. Tears sprang to her eyes and she pressed a hand to her abdomen. “Soul?” she whispered to the empty air.

But, if he had ever been there, he was gone now. Again, Maka was alone on Valentine’s Day, but somehow… she didn’t feel as alone as she usually did. She knew,   
somewhere—maybe from heaven, maybe from hell, maybe from somewhere else entirely—Soul was watching over her. 

X X X

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Review! (Please DON’T request unless you’re dying to see it. I’m completely OVERLOADED right now.)


	8. Busy as a Beaver

For Midnight-Solace.

 **Summary:** When you have six kids and a demanding job saving the world, it’s very hard to find time for yourself.

X X X

Soul leaned in close, his fingers rough from working in the yard all day where they scraped along Maka’s throat. (It was late fall, time to put away all the Halloween decorations and start raking leaves.) She shivered, pressing closer to him, absorbing the feeling of his mouth on her skin. She tangled her fingers through his pale hair, tilting her head back to grant him greater access to her sensitive skin. Then, all at once, there was a lot of shouting and screaming.

Maka jerked away from her lover like she had been shot from a cannon, pulling the neck of her blouse closed just in time for the front door to fly open as half their kids and half the neighborhood kids streamed into the house like a flood. They were all shouting, tracking in leaves and the little plastic ghosts that Maka had asked them to take down from the pine tree in the front yard.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Soul shouted over the din and rose from the couch to tower over them. “What’s all this noise? What’s your problem?”

“Eddie’s stuck in the tree,” one of the kids said.

“What do you mean ‘stuck’?” Maka asked, coming to stand beside Soul. She fixed the collection of children with her best motherly glare. Since the glare often worked on kishin just as well as it did on children, the kids all immediately began to spill their guts. 

“He was—”

“You see—”

“And then he—”

“The tree grabbed—”

“But we got all the ghosts!”

Soul stepped back to let Maka take the reins on this situation, trying to gather what exactly had happened. It sounded to him like a whole lot of nonsense, but he was almost certain one of the kids had been climbing the tree to get down the ghosts, slipped stupidly, and now had the back of his pants caught on the branch and was now dangling like an overripe fruit.

“You take this one, honey,” Soul said with a toothy smile. (Maka was a far better tree climber than he was anyway. He had a tendency to be exactly like a cat by climbing up as high as he could, looking down at the ground, and freezing in panic.)

She rolled her eyes at him and took her son’s hand, letting him lead her out into the front yard. She mouthed at Soul, ‘We’ll finish this later.’

He grinned at her and nodded.

Then, there was a loud shout of “Dad! Daddy!” coming from somewhere in the house and Soul went off to deal with that while Maka untangled one of the kids from the pine tree outside. Soul found his two youngest daughters sitting on the floor in the room they shared in a mess of toys and clothes.

“Look at this room!” he exclaimed. “Didn’t I tell you to clean this?”

“We are,” said the youngest, her lip quivering pathetically. 

“Daddy, can you get the sock drawer back in?” 

Soul crouched down beside them, taking the drawer in his hands. He scrutinized the track as he said, “Sure, it just takes a little finesse.”

They looked on silently, watching as Soul jostled the drawer back onto the track and tried to slide it in. It went about five inches and then stuck fast like Pooh Bear in the rabbit hole. Soul whacked it with the flat of his palm, rattled it, and whacked it again.

“Just a little finesse,” he continued explaining to his daughters, “and sometimes a little pounding—” He punctuated this with another hard blow to the drawer. “A little finesse, a little pounding… Okay, a lot of pounding.” Soul stood up and gave the drawer a hard kick. With a slam, it slid in all the way and closed neatly. “There. You see?”

His youngest daughter grasped the small handles and tugged. “Yeah… but now it’s stuck.”

Soul tugged at the drawer and found it was just as much stuck in the closed position as it had been stuck open earlier. “Are you wearing socks?” he asked his girls.

They both nodded, looking up at him innocently. 

“Then we’ll worry about it tomorrow,” he said and pressed quick kisses to the tops of their heads. “Now, clean up this room and this mess! No more distractions!”

“Kay!” they called cheerfully.

Soul left their room and looked out the front window. Maka had successfully plucked the stuck child from the tree and was now scolding the collection of children with a lot of finger-wagging and hands on her hips. She was so pretty with the autumn sun playing on her hair and skin and her green eyes sparkling fiercely. Soul just watched her for a moment. Then, there was a sudden crash in the garage and he hurried off to find his oldest son had successfully knocked over positively everything by kicking a soccer ball too hard. 

“What are you doing?” Soul asked with a tired sigh. They had gone through this same song and dance just yesterday about playing soccer in the driveway. “This is what the backyard is for. Remember?”

Soul’s son flushed, but protested, “Then, the ball gets stuck in a tree.”

Maka came into the garage with their youngest son tucked under her arms like a sack of potatoes. “And I do not want to be rescuing anymore children from trees today,” she said sternly. 

Soul reached out to press a quick kiss to her cheek, earning a chorus of ‘Eww!’ from their collective children and some of the neighbors’ kids. Then, he went back into the house to sweep up all the leaves and ghosts that the kids had tracked inside. 

…

The days were always long when you had six kids, but the days often felt even longer to Maka and Soul. They didn’t work nine to five jobs like all their neighbors and were often out in the wee hours of the night to take on kishin and extra missions. It wasn’t easy to support six kids after all.

So, even if Maka was dying to be with Soul, she was just too tired that night. After she showered, she collapsed beside him in their bed and breathed hard into her pillow. Her muscles were aching, there was still pine sap on her hands, and she never wanted to see another leaf as long as she lived.

Soul was stretched out beside her, mirroring her expression. He accepted a chaste kiss from his wife and then asked, “So… tomorrow?”

Maka nodded tiredly, burying her face into the covers. “Yeah, tomorrow.”

But the thing about tomorrow is… it never really comes.

…

“Yikes,” Tsubaki said when she came to collect the kids for the carpool to soccer the next day. “You guys look exhausted.”

Maka pushed back her mussed hair. “We are,” she said with a yawn. “We raked all our leaves yesterday.”

Tsubaki looked across the yard. “You do have an awful lot of trees.”

Soul snorted. “Next fall, we’re just going to move rather than rake all this again.”

“You say that every year,” Maka said, elbowing Soul in the ribs.

Tsubaki giggled. “You know, BlackStar and I were going to take our kids to the park today. Why don’t you let me take your six with us?”

“Really, Tsubaki?” Maka asked.

Tsubaki rolled her shoulders. “Sure. We already have three kids so what’s a couple more, right? The more the merrier.”

“That would be wonderful,” Soul said gratefully.

Tsubaki slid them a wink, gathered up the kids, and left in her oversized minivan. 

Maka had barely had time to close the door before Soul was one her. The door was hard and cool against her back as he lifted her t-shirt over her head and pressed his mouth eagerly to the flesh that swelled over the cups of her bra. She quickly unclasped the back of her bra and dropped it on the floor, letting Soul wrap his mouth around the sensitive peak of her nipple. She tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging him closer, and then he broke the contact.

His mouth tracked quickly up her throat and closed over her lips, devouring her in a searing kiss. Maka moaned, leaning back hard into the door. Soul hitched his hands under her bottom and lifted her up so that she could wrap her legs around his hips. She could feel the hard press of his arousal against her very core and ground down against him. Soul groaned, thrusting against her heat, and then his hand followed. He cupped her through her jeans, his thumb pressing over her swollen pearl.

Then, there was a buzzing vibration that had nothing to do with what they were doing.

Soul pulled away from Maka’s lips with a heated curse and took his cell phone from his pocket. Lord Death’s logo flashed across the screen, flickering eerily. With a sigh, Maka quickly put her bra and t-shirt back on and walked to the mirror in the hallway with Soul at her back.

“Duty calls,” Soul muttered irritably.

Maka leaned close to the mirror, breathing out to fog the glass. “42-42-564, whenever you want to knock on Death’s Door,” she said aloud.

…

That night, they collapsed in bed after taking a quick and strictly-business shower together. Though Maka barely had the energy to kiss Soul, he had more energy left than she did. (She supposed being the weapon rather than the meister had its merits.) She was more the willing to just lay back and let him do all the work, but…

Lady Luck was once again not on their side.

Unfortunately, Soul has put their daughters to bed with a story of their mother fighting off the kishin that had possessed Jack the Ripper. The girls had, of course, had nightmares and crawled right into bed with Mom and Dad. With a sigh, Maka curled up to sleep with her children pressed between them like a living chastity belt. 

…

“Now,” Soul breathed into the soft skin of her neck. “Let’s do it now.”

“Soul,” Maka protested. “The kids will be home in fifteen minutes.”

“So?” he asked, feathering kisses along her jaw. “That’s fifteen minutes.”

“I’m making dinner,” she told him sternly.

“It’s only pasta. It’ll be fine by itself,” he tried. His tongue was hot on her neck.

Maka moaned as he sucked hard on her pulse. “Okay,” she whispered.

Soul made a pleased sound in his throat and tugged her away from the stove. He had the presence of mind to at least turn the burners down before backing her up against the fridge and caging her in with his body, not that she wanted to escape anyway. He started to slide his hands beneath her shirt, but she batted his hands away.

“No,” she said. “There’s no time. Just—” She took his hand and guided it between her legs, grinding down against his fingers.

Soul smirked. “Have I mentioned lately that I love it when you wear skirts?”

“You could stand to mention it more,” she said teasingly.

He quickly tugged down her panties and stuffed them into his pocket so they wouldn’t have to look for them later while she unfastened his belt and jerked the button of his jeans free. He quickly freed himself from the confines of his boxers and pressed full against her core. Maka moaned, pulling his away from the fridge to the counter. She hopped nimbly onto it, wrapped her legs around his hips, and jerked him close. Her fingers coiled around his member, giving him a few quick strokes. 

He gripped her knees, pulling her legs apart and up so that the warm kitchen air kissed her very core. Her flexibility was a blessing as he pushed deep into her body. God, how long had it been since they had been able to be together without life, work, or kids getting in the way? She groaned, her muscles clenching like a virgin’s around him, and rocked against him eagerly. Soul slid out to the tip and quickly pushed back in, setting a hurried pace. 

It was no less pleasurable for being hurried even if Maka reached between their bodies to touch herself exactly the way she liked it. (Soul was good and he tried hard, but he was often slow about it and they just didn’t have the time.) She moaned, throwing her head back in bliss as Soul thrusted deep into her. His knee clunked into the cabinet beneath her and he swore softly, but continued with more force that before. Her breasts bounced with the animal force of their love making.

She leaned against the cabinet at her back, reaching out to blindly grip the faucet to anchor herself as Soul pounded into her. The sound of rushing water was odd, but not distracting enough to get her to turn off the faucet. She pinched her clit, stroking hard over it with her thumb, and Soul gripped her buttocks and pulled her close so he could thrust into her at a new angle. She moaned out his name, opening her lips and welcoming his hot kiss.

She whimpered, her entire body convulsing, as a welcome and much-missed orgasm rocked her. Soul groaned, spilling into her as the feeling of her muscles clenching brought him over the edge. She collapsed against his chest, breathing hard, feeling him tremble in the wake of his pleasure. She lifted her chin to kiss him tenderly, sucking at his lower lip. Soul deepened the kiss, softening inside her as he embraced her close to his chest. The beat of his heart was like a drum.

Then, with no time to bask in the afterglow, Maka hopped down from the counter and mopped his spent seed from between her thighs. Soul turned off the running faucet and went back to the stove to stir the spaghetti and sauce. Maka took her panties from his pocket and pulled them on, standing close at Soul’s side for a moment without speaking. 

“I love you,” Soul said softly.

“I love you, too,” she whispered.

Maka was just leaning up to kiss him when the front door blew open and all six of their kids came home in a cacophony of shouting and arguing. They took a moment to ‘Eww!’ over the close proximity of their parents before the whole family sat down for dinner.

X X X

Questions, comments, concerns?

Review!


	9. When There's Nothing on TV...

Happy Valentine’s Day!

For Llamaslayer21 and Blue Blooded Phantom. (Again, sorry for how horrendously long it took me to get to this request.)

 **Summary:** Accidental porn. It can happen and it can still be fun.

X X X

It was cold, it was windy, and it was raining. It wasn’t a good night for missions. It wasn’t a good night for sleeping. It wasn’t a good night for anything really. Well, maybe it was a good night for one thing—sitting on the couch with someone you loved and watching a movie. Snuggling up under a mess of blankets and pillows with his arms around the one he loved. Yeah, that sounded like a great idea to Soul Eater Evans. And so, he had gone out into the horrible weather just to rent a movie for such a thing. 

Twenty minutes later, Soul slouched his way into the apartment he shared with his girlfriend, Maka Albarn, and took off his dripping coat, throwing it over the back of a chair. Maka came out of the kitchen just as he was shaking himself off, doglike, and flinging droplets of water everywhere.

“Did you get a good movie?” she asked him curiously.

He slid her a look through his wet hair and accepted a towel. “It’s horrible outside,” he muttered.

“I can tell,” she said with a shiver and turned back to the kitchen to get a bag of popcorn.

Soul wrapped his arms around her from behind, his body damp and cold against her warm skin. She shivered as some water dripped on her bare shoulders, rolling down her back. Soul’s tongue traced hotly after the cold liquid and Maka batted him off.

“Cut it out,” she snapped. “You’re soaked.”

“Are you?” he asked with a grin.

She blushed. “Just go put on some dry clothes!”

Chuckling, Soul went off to their bedroom to change. When he came back out, Maka had already dumped the popcorn into a big bowl and set out to cans of soda on the coffee table. She flopped down on the couch and watched his ass as he cross the living room. Man, did he look good in jeans…

Soul opened the DVD case and then froze, staring down in disbelief at the interior of the case.

“What is it?” Maka asked.

“Um,” Soul ground out.

“What?” she repeated. “What movie did you rent? Is it something stupid?”

“No, it’s…”

“It’s what?”

“Requiem for a Wet Dream,” he forced out. (1)

For a long moment, Maka just stared at him, her mouth hanging open and her hand frozen midway to her mouth with a piece of popcorn between her fingers. She coughed, cleared her throat, and then asked, “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” Soul said. A flush crept up his cheeks and then cooled as he took the DVD from the case and put it into the player.

“We are not seriously going to watch it, are we?” Maka asked.

Soul rolled his shoulders. “I already brought it home and I am not going back out in this weather.”

“But it’s porn!” Maka protested. “We can’t—”

“Why not?” Soul asked, coming to sit down beside her with the remote in his hand. “We’re adults. We can watch porn if we want.”

Maka flushed and threw a piece of popcorn at him. “But—!”

“Shh,” Soul murmured. 

Then, as a distraction, he put his arm around her as the opening credits began to roll. He tucked his fingers under her chin and caught her lips in a sweet kiss. Maka melted into him, her fingers curling in the fabric of his t-shirt and pulling him closer. His tongue slid into her mouth, curling around the back of her teeth and making her moan softly. She breathed out, tangling her fingers in his white hair. He deepened the kiss, pressing her back into the couch cushions.

Then, from the television, there was an outrageous chorus of fake moans.

Maka jolted with surprise and turned to look at the TV, getting a full view of the main star for the movie. Jesus, he was hung like a horse and just about as attractive as one, but they she supposed porn stars didn’t get jobs because of their faces. “Yikes,” she said.

Soul was looking at the woman on screen with something between distaste and arousal. She had large breasts and perfect skin and bleached blonde hair, but that was about all that was remarkable about her. Well, that and her amazing lung capacity as she let out a cheesy moan that could have been heard in the next state.

Maka cupped her hands around Soul’s face and pulled his eyes from the screen by kissing him deeply. When she broke the kiss, she was satisfied to find that Soul’s crimson eyes were focused only on her. She snuggled down against his side and said softly, “Let’s just watch. This looks like it will be funny.”

Funny wasn’t exactly he word Soul would have used to describe it, but he was cool with it. He wrapped his arm lightly around Maka’s shoulders and held her close. She gathered up the blankets around them, snuggling in contentedly with the popcorn and strange movie. Soul watched as well, but tried not to stare too hard. 

Soon after the popcorn had been finished off, Maka put the bowl aside on the coffee table and then nestled deeply against Soul’s embrace. She sighed softly, her breath warm. He ran his fingers through her pale hair, watching the porn stars with mild interest. It was still raining outside and the cold damp was beginning to seep into the air.

Then, mild interest in the porno turned to no interest at all when Soul felt Maka’s slim fingers move to the waistband of his jeans. Smoothly, the expression on her face never changing and her eyes never leaving the screen, she reached into his pants and wrapped her fingers around his length. He was already embarrassingly hard and groaned softly at the feeling of her small hands wrapping around his engorged flesh. She began to stroke him nonchalantly, tapping her fingers lightly on the over-sensitive head of him every time the girl on screen moaned loudly.

Soul’s hips bucked into her hand wantonly, but she didn’t give into his silent plea for a faster pace. She kept up the same languid touch, surprising him occasionally with sudden taps to his most sensitive place. Damp precum began to gather at his tip and Maka palmed it, smoothing the moisture down the side, giving him more pleasure without ever increasing her pace. He groaned, clenching his teeth, as she continued to tease him.

Then, Maka pulled off the blanket they had been snuggled under. The cool air of the apartment kissed his heated flesh and he groaned as another bead of eager wetness rolled down the side. She stroked him, her thumb rasping over the head, and her other hand snuck beneath his shirt to lightly trail over his nipples. Soul squirmed, more ticklish than aroused, and Maka tugged at his shirt until he took it off. She descended on his chest with her mouth, trailing kisses all along the scar that bisected his chest. 

Soul shuddered as she lightly took his nipple between her teeth and tugged. He knew this was all just a peek at what she would do to him soon. Her mouth moved lower, lavishing kisses all over his pale skin as she did so until she reached his erection. She blew a little puff of cool air over the heated tip, making him squirm, and then engulfed him in her mouth. He bucked, crying out and tangling his fingers in her pale hair. Maka nipped lightly, letting her teeth scrape the sides.

He groaned, shuddering desperately at the feeling. She began to bob her head, working up and down his shaft with her tongue and teeth. Soul could only clutch her hair, trying his hardest not to thrust hard into her mouth and gag her, as the wonderful feeling exploded all throughout his body. Her hand slipped into his pants against, cool fingers lightly cupping the heat of his balls, and Soul nearly came right then, but he fought back the urge.

He felt Maka slide a finger into her mouth with his cock, still bobbing her head up and down on him. He couldn’t think rationally for long, but he knew what was coming. She had tried it before and he found it to be both pleasant and strange. She pulled her finger from her mouth and teasingly trailed the moist tip over his balls. Then, she swallowed his length as deep into her throat as she dared at the same moment she pressed her finger gently into him.

Soul’s body strained against the amazing feelings, his muscles clenching and relaxing, and he tried not to cry out too girlishly. Maka bobbed her head, swallowing his length a little deeper each time, while her finger moved only slightly within him. It took her a moment to find his prostate, but then she pressed down on the little bundle of nerves and no amount of self-control would allow Soul to hold back his orgasm. His seed poured down the back of her throat and she swallowed it all before pulling back and wiping her mouth with her hand.

Teasingly, she pressed her finger to his prostate one final time before pulling it out and wiping it on her jeans. “Do you like when I do that, Soul?” she asked.

“Couldn’t you tell?” he panted.

Maka grinned cheekily and rose to straddle him on the couch. She pulled off her shirt and bra, throwing them carelessly aside, and Soul immediately wrapped his hands around her small breasts. They were nowhere near as big as the porn star’s breasts, but he was certain they were more sensitive. Maka shivered as he closed his lips over one nipple, pinching the other lightly between his fingers. He sucked noisily and then traced his tongue through the crease of the underside.

Maka gasped, grinding down into his lap while she waited for his erection to come back to life. Soul’s hand wandered down her body and slid into her underwear. She was already soaked, dripping and warm, and he slid his fingers inside easily. Maka cried out, throwing her head back, as he stroked her inner walls. He teased her swollen clit, pinching it lightly, until she nearly came undone in his lap. His mouth lavished attention on her breasts, nipping and licking all over.

She felt his erection begin to awaken again and ground down on him. He groaned, over-sensitive from his first orgasm. He wouldn’t last long once he was inside her so he’d have to get her to the peak with his fingers. She moaned as he thrust his fingers into her, curling them in such a way that they scraped along the sensitive place just inside her. She shuddered, a rush of wetness coming from deep inside, as she moaned his name. She was close.

Soul quickly pushed her panties aside and sheathed himself inside her. Her body was so hot and wet and was shaped perfectly to fit him. She whispered his name, pressing her hips down to feel the full girth of him inside her. Soul didn’t give her any time to adjust and began to thrust into her almost immediately. She cried out, her small breasts jiggling, and clung to his bare shoulders. His thrusts were fast and frenzied, keeping her on her toes and unprepared for what to expect.

She gasped, moaning, as his fingers dipped down between their bodies to flick her little pearl lightly. She clenched her muscles around him, making him work harder to move and letting her feel that much more of him. She moaned, her head falling back and her eyes sliding closed, as her entire body tightened. He pressed a little harder on her clit and she came, roaring down over the edge like an angel falling from heaven. The rush of her juices brought Soul over with her.

They collapsed together, panting, but the mood was ruined by the obnoxious moaning of the female porn star on the TV. Maka grabbed the remote and shut off the volume with a huff before dissolving into a puddle in Soul’s arms.

“That was good,” she said finally.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“You should rent porn more often.”

“But we’ll watch it on mute,” he said.

Maka nodded, making a face. Really, how much more unrealistic could those sound be? But even so, it had been a cool experience to sit and watch porn with Soul. She decided that maybe the next time they watched some together, she would try to act out everything they did on the screen.

X X X

(1) This is actually a real porno… And you can seriously rent porn in a video store. In my rental place, they keep the porn right next to the anime.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Review!


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